


What Makes a Hunter

by alwayscastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Ships It, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Wounded Castiel, destiel smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10473765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayscastiel/pseuds/alwayscastiel
Summary: Cas, Dean and Sam have been hunting together and splitting off to take smaller jobs. The story starts with the three of them on three separate hunts. Cas is human and wounded and shows up at Dean's motel in need of help. What proceeds is the two of them meeting up with Sam and going on an involved hunt, over the course of which Dean and Cas slowly figure out their feelings for each other. Lots of awkwardness (in a good way), some mild angst, comfort, and eventually fluff and smut.





	1. Chapter 1

The bedside clock read 1:36 when Dean was jolted awake. Someone was pounding on his motel room door. He blinked rapidly, trying to steady himself and momentarily forgetting where he was. His legs were tangled in the sheets, the blanket a useless downy heap on the floor. The hunter struggled to push himself off the bed, acutely aware of the fact that whoever was on the other side of the door really wanted to come in. Sliding his gun from under the pillow Dean stood with some difficulty and tiptoed to the window. He pulled back the blinds ever so slightly to see who was outside. In less than a second he had unbolted the chain, flipped the lock vertical and pulled the door open. Cas swayed on the doorstep, trench-coat filthy and covered in what Dean hoped wasn't his own blood.

"Hello Dean" he croaked, and promptly fell face first into the room.

"Woah woah woah hey what happened, man?" Dean hissed, grabbing the ex-angel's shoulders before he hit the floor and looking around for a place for Cas to sit. The only viable furniture in the room was a rickety wooden chair and and the lumpy queen bed. Dean maneuvered him towards the latter, propped him up against the headboard and turned to close the door. He tripped over the blanket on the floor, smacked his elbow on the top of the chair and swore loudly, recovering himself by grabbing onto the doorframe.

"Cas? What happened?" he asked his dazed friend, pushing the door shut with a quiet click and bolting it.

"Vampire," Cas grunted, then coughed. Some blood came up. He wiped his hand across his mouth and then looked at the bloody smear in complete confusion. Dean flipped the lights on, rubbing his elbow.

He gave Cas a once-over. He was bleeding heavily from a gash in his right side.

"You look like crap," the hunter observed.

"Thank you." came the gravelly reply, along with a surly glare and the faintest hint of a pout. Dean smiled, despite the situation.

"Okay, hang on a second. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. You wanna get that coat off?" he asked, gesturing vaguely towards his friend. Cas started to wriggle out of the disgusting trench-coat as Dean disappeared into the bathroom. He dug through his toiletry bag, silently thanking Sam for making him overpack despite the fact that it had just been a simple salt-and-burn.

"Can you get your shirt off?" he called over his shoulder.

"I don't think so. It seems to be stuck," came the reply. Dean sighed.

"Awesome." he muttered. "Well I don't have scissors so I have to go out to the car and get a knife."

He stalked out of the bathroom and dumped the first aid kit onto the bed. "Just, uh...stay here, I guess," he said, shoving his feet into waiting boots. He unlocked the door again and stepped out onto the concrete, glancing back once over his shoulder. Cas had his eyes closed and his head leaning against the pillows. The hunter shut the door as quietly as possible, tiptoed down the metal steps to the Impala and popped the trunk.

He was full of questions. Neither he or Sammy had heard from Cas in days. He knew that for a fact because they had discussed it over the phone yesterday. Sam was in Virginia hunting down what looked like a werewolf, and Dean had decided that it would be safe for him to split and take care of a ghost that had been haunting an old church in small-town Ohio. They had assumed that Cas was off doing something hunterly but it was just plain weird that he had turned up wounded in Middle-Of-Nowhere Ohio at the same motel Dean was staying at. It was the only motel in town, but still. There was something up.

Dean selected two knives of different lengths just in case and slammed and locked Baby's trunk. In a moment he was back up the stairs and pulling the motel room door slightly ajar. He briefly scanned the parking lot below to see if anyone was watching which room he went into. No one was. The hunter slipped inside, flipped the lock and bolted the chain, and turned towards Cas lying on the bed.

"Okay, I have a knife. Do you mind telling me what happened? In more than one word?" Dean asked. He walked over and perched on the bed beside the ex-angel, kicking his boots off unceremoniously and taking hold of the top of Cas's t-shirt to slit it open.

"I've been following a vampire for four days." Cas answered with some difficulty. "I tracked him down in Columbus but he was traveling alone and I thought that was strange. So I decided to follow him and see if he would lead me to his nest. He did." Cas winced as Dean ripped through the last part of his shirt and exposed the nasty gash in his side.

"And this?" Dean gestured to the wound with an eyebrow raised.

"There were more of them than I had previously accounted for. One of them stole my angel blade. Don't worry, I got it back." Cas pulled the silver blade out from under him.

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically. "I'm so glad you didn't lose your blade. Thank god." He grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the bedside table, pulled the cork out with his teeth, spit it onto the rug, and took a swig.

"Okay, this is gonna hurt," he warned, positioning the bottle over Cas's open wound. Cas just nodded. Dean tipped some of the whiskey out, drawing a sharp gasp from the other man. "Sorry, buddy," he muttered.

"It's all right," Cas replied, "I've had worse."

"So where have you been this past week?" Dean asked, dabbing gently around the gash with a piece of gauze. He tried to make it sound conversational but he was actually pretty pissed. Cas, of course, didn't pick up on it.

"I just told you." he said, tilting his head to the left and narrowing his eyes in confusion, "I was hunting a vampire in Columbus––"

"No, yeah, I heard what you said," interrupted Dean. "I mean why didn't you pick up the phone at all?"

"Oh." Cas looked guilty. "I didn't think I needed to."

"Dude I called you like four times!" Dean snapped, threading his needle and tying off the end. He dipped the tip in the bottle of whiskey.

"I am sorry, Dean."

"Yeah, okay." Dean muttered. "Hang on a second, this'll be over soon." 

He pinched the sides of the wound together and began carefully stitching it up. Cas tensed but didn't make any noise. There were a few minutes of silence as Dean concentrated on the task at hand. Cas didn't say anything, just stared at the hunter's face while he worked, occasionally glancing down at his stomach to see how much progress had been made. When Dean finished he tied the string off, used the knife to snip off the excess and dropped the needle back into the first aid kit. Cas decided it was safe to speak again.

"I didn't realize my lack of communication would be distressing," he began, but Dean just shook his head.

"Forget about it, man. Doesn't matter."

It did matter, but Dean didn't have a good explaination as to why and he didn't feel like going down that particular road at two in the morning. Cas looked like he wanted to say more but Dean shot him a look that shut him up.

After administering some antibacterial ointment and taping a bandage in place over the wound, Dean shoved everything back into the first aid kit and got to his feet, careful not to jostle the bed too much. He looked down at Cas, who was staring at him with a furrowed brow. The hunter couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"I don't understand why you are angry." said Cas, looking more confused than ever.

"Dude I'm not angry. It's just...I don't know. It's like you keep forgetting you're human now and putting yourself in danger. And I can't be around to sew you up all the time and that kinda scares me, you know?" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd never been very good with words. Luckily, Cas got it.

"Ah. I understand. It's like when you were angry with Sam for leaving his cellphone at the motel in February. Or that time when Kevin went into that mall by himself. Or when Charlie––"

"Okay, okay!" Dean interrupted. "Yeah. Yes. It's like that. But that's enough, alright?" Cas raised an eyebrow. Dean decided to ignore it.

"When was the last time you ate, anyways?" he asked, looking at the ex-angel's hollow cheeks.

"I often forget to," Cas admitted. "Nourishment is not something angels are required to think about."

"Well," said Dean, swinging open the door of the corner mini-fridge, "I have beer and pie." He grinned at Cas over the top of the door. "It's cherry."

"Pie sounds good." Cas agreed, smiling back ever so slightly.

"Awesome," said Dean, scooping the pie out of the fridge and closing the door with his foot. "Why don't you get yourself cleaned up while I try to find you some not-disgusting clothes?" He set the pie down on the foot of the bed and ambled into the bathroom, ran a motel washcloth under the sink for a minute, then squeezed it out and tossed it to Cas. The other man looked at it sideways as if he was trying to figure out all its deepest secrets.

"What do I do with it?" he asked, still studying it intently.

"Um...well I didn't think it was a good idea to try to get you into the shower so just like...I don't know. Wipe yourself down with it or something." Dean muttered, looking uncomfortable and turning to dig through his bag. "I'm not gonna show you how to do that." He shoved a few t-shirts aside and rummaged until he found one that looked like it might fit Cas.

"How are your pants?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder and noticing with relief that Cas had figured out how to use the washcloth.

"Excuse me?" Cas asked, pausing what he was doing and looking at Dean sideways again.

"Do. You. Need. To. Borrow. A. Pair. Of. Pants?" Dean demanded, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He knew he wasn't really being fair but honestly who was at their best at 2 in the morning?

"Oh." Cas looked down. "Yes. I think. Mine have blood on them."

The hunter rummaged around in his bag for another second, emerged with a pair of sweatpants and tossed them and the t-shirt to Cas.

"Here," he said gruffly, standing and holding his hand out for the now filthy washcloth. Cas handed it to him and Dean disappeared into the bathroom to wait for his friend to change. After a couple of minutes he poked his head out of the door to see Cas sitting (thankfully) fully-clothed on the bed. He returned to the mini fridge and pulled out two beers. He motioned to the pie at the end of the bed.

"I don't have any plates so we're just gonna have to eat it out of the tin," he admitted sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I am not bothered." said Cas, looking at him as intently as he had looked at the washcloth a few minutes earlier. Dean felt his skin get weirdly hot. He turned to his bag, scooped a couple of plastic forks out of the bottom and walked to the other side of the bed. He handed Cas a beer and a fork, plucked a pillow up off the ground, shook it out and propped it against the headboard. The clock read 2:27.

They sat next to each other on the bed in companionable silence, taking turns eating out of the pie tin and sipping their respective beers. Dean found himself relaxing into the quiet. With a lot of people silence was awkward or uncomfortable. Ever since he had been a child Dean had always felt the need to fill it. But it wasn't like that with Cas. The dude was pretty hard to figure out sometimes, but other times he was easier to be around than pretty much anyone else Dean had ever met. He only really felt this comfortable with two people in the whole world––his baby brother and the ex-angel currently by his side.

After a few minutes Dean glanced over to ask Cas a question and saw that at some point in the last few minutes he had drifted off. His (mostly full) beer tilted dangerously towards the floor and Dean lurched forward to catch it before his hand released it entirely. Dean rolled his eyes but his mouth twitched slightly at the corners. What a dweeb. He slipped the fork out of Cas's other hand, set both things on the bedside table and got up as carefully as possible so as not to wake the other man. Dean knew the importance of getting sleep after sustaining a wound as bad as the one Cas had gotten. There was no way he was gonna wake him up and kick him off the bed. Instead the walked around the foot of the bed to where the blanket was piled on the floor, shook it out, and spread it over Cas, who shifted slightly at the added warmth. Dean plopped himself into the rickety chair, put his feet up on the bed and leaned over to turn out the light. This would be fine for now. They would book another room in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes care of a wounded (and frustratingly human) Cas. They meet up with Sam later that night.

Dean's phone went off right in his ear, startling him awake. Sam's name flashed on the screen. He dragged a hand over his eyes and pressed answer.

"Sammy."

"Hey, what's up? I need to know where we're meeting later." came a crackly version of his little brother's voice. The connection was really bad. Dean had to focus to hear him at all.

"Uh, I'm at a motel in Ohio. I forget the name of the town. Listen," Dean muttered, glancing over at the still-sleeping Cas, "I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay," said Sam. "About what?"

"Just hang on." he stood up making as little noise as possible and approached the edge of the bed. Cas was snoring. Dean smirked and turned back towards the door. The guy wasn't gonna wake up any time soon.

"Okay," Dean said into the phone after unbolting the door and stepping out onto the concrete walkway. His breath frosted in the air. "So Cas turned up at my motel in like the middle of the night."

"Cas?" Sam asked. He sounded just as confused as Dean felt. "But we haven't heard from him in days. How did he even know where you were?"

"I don't know," Dean replied, shaking his head, "but he's wounded. He bit off a little more than he could chew with some local vamps."

"Huh," Sam replied, and Dean could almost hear the gears in his head starting to turn. "Has he said anything about it?"

"Only that he literally ran into a vampire nest and got his angel blade stolen," Dean replied, "Don't worry," he added with a touch of sarcasm, "he got it back."

"...Great." said Sam. "Well when I get there let's see what we can find out, okay? Now can you please figure out what town you're in so I know where to find you?"

"Okay okay" Dean replied, rolling his eyes. "I'll just text it to you, alright? I don't want Cas to wake up and find me gone. He might tear his stitches or something." it was a feeble excuse but the hunter ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pajama pants pocket before Sam could respond. He marched back to his door, shivering in the brisk morning air.

The room was exactly the same as he had left it––snoring Cas on the bed, clothes strewn all over the floor and an empty pie tin balanced precariously on the bedside table. Dean sighed and looked around, figuring he might as well start to pack his mess up before Sam arrived. He kicked all his clothes into a pile, pulled out the cleanest looking flannel and shoved the rest into his duffel. He had given his only other pair of pants to Cas so he snatched yesterday's from off the top of the mini fridge and pulled them on, grumbling about aggravating ex-angels and a tragic lack of cherry pie.

Half an hour and many stifled curses later, Dean's bag was packed and all that was left to do was wait for Cas to wake up. He sat on the rickety chair for a little while but felt weird about watching the other man sleep, so he got up and went through his first aid kit to pull out everything he would need to change his friend's bandages. After organizing and reorganizing the first aid kit three times and noticing that Cas was still nowhere near waking, Dean snatched up the keys to the Impala and slipped out the motel room door. He just needed some air.

He slid into the driver's seat and breathed in Baby's comforting smell of old leather and whiskey. Pausing briefly to snap a picture of the motel's sign and send it to Sam, Dean pulled out of the parking lot and was off down the road. It instantly felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He had no idea why he had felt so weird and cooped up in that motel room––only that it made him uncomfortable when he was awake and Cas wasn't. Actually pretty much everything about the situation made him uncomfortable––Cas wearing his clothes, Cas sleeping in his bed, Cas appearing out of nowhere and knowing exactly what door to come knocking on. And the strangest part was that Dean felt like he had been waiting for that knock ever since he had arrived at the motel. Or maybe hoping for it? It had been a weird few days and Dean had found himself overly worried about the lack of communication from his friend. He ran a hand over his face and turned on the radio. The classic rock blasting out of the car's stereo at full volume was enough to drive away his intrusive thoughts and the hunter rolled down both windows so the wind could card through his hair.

After following the curves of the road for about two miles he made a hard right into the parking lot of a local grocery store. The Impala maneuvered expertly into a parking space and he pulled the keys out of the ignition. Dean made a list in his head: beer, obviously, some apples or something cause Sammy was showing up later, and more cherry pie cause Cas had seemed to like it so much. Maybe some Cheetos or something? Soup? The hunter wasn't particularly good at feeding himself, let alone other people. Once he was inside the store he looked around and decided to get it all. After the back of the Impala was loaded up with overflowing plastic shopping bags Dean hopped back in the driver's seat. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed back towards the motel, silently hoping that Cas hadn't woken up and flipped out when he found he was alone.

It turned out that there was no reason for concern. Cas was barely stirring when Dean barged through the door and started unloading the contents of his bags into the mini-fridge.

"What time is it?" Cas groaned, his voice even more gravelly than normal from sleep.

"It's like 10:30, dude." Dean said from behind the mini fridge. "You slept in." He unboxed a six-pack, shoved it into the fridge, unloaded another and stored it on top. After making sure there was nothing left in any of the bags he finally turned to the man on the bed.

"Here," he said, tossing a small white bottle to Cas who, surprisingly, caught it. "I thought it might help. I mean obviously Advil's not gonna do a ton for you but it's better than nothing, right?" He almost instantly regretted his decision when Cas looked up at him and said in the most earnest and heartfelt way possible,

"Thank you, Dean."

"It's just Advil." Dean replied, tips of his ears turning pink. "Uh, I got more pie too."

"Did you purchase plates?" Cas enquired, a barely-there grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean groaned and Cas actually laughed. Dean made a face.

"Sammy probably has some anyway," he muttered over his shoulder as he drifted into the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. "He's meeting up with us later."

He emerged from the bathroom with the first aid kit in hand. Cas was looking at him absently. Dean cleared his throat.

"Uh, I'm gonna teach you how to dress your wound. So I don't have to do it for you every time. Do you wanna shower or something first?" He asked, glancing at the ex-angel. "Can you stand for that long?"

"Yes, I think so. It would be nice to wash my hair." Cas replied, looking intently at the kit in Dean's hands.

"Okay. Um, just shout or something if you fall." Dean muttered, helping Cas off the bed and towards the bathroom. He noticed again that the other man was a little too thin. "And after your shower it's breakfast time, okay?"

"Okay." Cas said seriously, looking him in the eye. Dean closed the bathroom door between them without a word and suddenly he was alone in the room. He let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding in. After he heard the shower start up he moved across the room to yank the sheets off the bed. In a few seconds they were piled in a rumpled heap on the floor and Dean flopped unceremoniously onto the bare mattress. He must've fallen asleep because it only seemed like a few seconds had passed before he opened his eyes to find an amused, half naked Cas staring down at him.

"Jesus!" Dean yelped.

"No," Cas said, smiling slightly, "Castiel. But I'll take Jesus as a compliment."

Dean rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time in the last 24 hours. Stretching like a cat he yawned and pushed himself into a sitting position. He patted the mattress next to him and Cas sat compliantly, still barely grinning.

"Okay," Dean started, scooping his first aid kit off the floor and into his lap, "I'm gonna teach you how to do this." he looked up for confirmation that Cas was listening and found a pair of bright blue eyes much too close to his face. He pulled his head back but wasn't that upset. He'd basically given up on trying to teach Cas what personal space was. Dean pointed to the stitched-up gash in the other man's side. 

"First you have to look at the wound and make sure you haven't pulled any stitches out. You look fine," he added, looking closer. Cas nodded. "Then if you haven't showered like within like, the last few minutes, you need to clean the wound with soap and water. Then rinse it with alcohol," he said, soaking a piece of gauze in last night's whiskey, "just so it doesn't get infected," he explained when Cas tilted his head and furrowed his brow. He dabbed the gauze around the stitches gently, trying his best not to hurt the other man. Cas tensed up anyway. "Okay and then after that you take some antibacterial ointment," Dean continued, screwing the top off the tube of Neosporin, "and just slap it on there. I don't mean literally slap it," he clarified, demonstrating the proper technique. He figured that Cas might take him too literally as was often the case. "And then after that you're done. Just take a clean bandage and some new tape and cover it up. But not too tight. We want the wound to be able to breathe. Got it?" he asked, taping the final side of the bandage to Cas's skin.

"Got it." came the serious reply.

"Awesome," Dean said, wiping the rest of the ointment off on his pants. "Put your shirt on and we'll have breakfast." He got up off the bed just as someone knocked on the motel room door. He crossed the room in a couple strides and peeked through the spy-hole.

"Ugh," Dean groaned, pulling open the door to reveal Sam with his arms full of fresh produce, "Why'd you bring all that crap? I already have food." he snatched up the pie to prove it.

"By food he means pie and beer." Cas supplied helpfully from the bed as he pulled his shirt back on.

"Hey, Cas." replied Sam, smiling at the ex-angel. "You've gotta tell me about whatever happened to you." He shut the door with his foot and joined Cas on the bed, leaving Dean holding an uneaten pie and staring resignedly at the bananas in the top of Sam's shopping bag.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean and Cas hit the road. Sam finds a new case for them to follow and Dean and Cas are awkward beans.

Dean glanced repeatedly in Baby's rearview mirror to make sure Cas was holding up alright in the backseat. They pulled out of the motel parking lot and onto the road.

"Where to?" he asked Sam. His brother was deeply absorbed in his phone, reading something in tiny print that Dean couldn't make out even if he squinted. "Sam!"

"Huh?" Sam looked up and blinked. "Oh, um. There's something that could be our kind of thing in Boulder Colorado. But Cas do you think you're up for it?" he asked, casting a concerned look behind him at the figure slumped across the Impala's entire back seat.

"Yes. Like I said before, I've had worse." the former angel grumbled, clearly slightly annoyed that the brothers kept babying him. Dean grinned. If Cas was well enough to display his irritation then he was already feeling more like himself. He pulled out onto the highway, leaving small-town Ohio behind in favor of the open road and a blessed lack of civilization.

After a brief discussion in Dean's (overcrowded) motel room they had decided to pack everything up and roll out instead of staying another night. Sam had left behind the car he'd stolen to get out of Virginia in the motel parking lot, figuring that someone would find it sooner or later and hopefully return it to its owner. Cas had been upset when Dean had insisted that his trench coat was too dirty to wear (the hunter didn't want anything staining his leather seats) but he had calmed down a bit with the promise that when they checked into the next motel Dean would teach him how to use a washing machine. Sam and Cas had ganged up on Dean and pressured him into eating a banana. Dean had complained and whined but eventually complied. Everything felt normal on the surface. But the discomfort that Dean had felt in the motel room while Cas slept buzzed uneasily behind his ears.

Despite the fact that he knew his friend was in the back seat, Dean found himself checking the rearview every few minutes just to make sure he was still there and still okay. The first few times he looked Cas was looking out the window, but when Dean looked up to check again as they rounded a curve in the highway he was confronted by Cas's shockingly blue eyes. Dean blushed and looked quickly away, then shook himself and looked right back. He had literally no reason to be embarrassed. He was making sure his friend who had recently been stabbed was alright. 

Their eyes met again and Dean raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Is there a problem? Cas narrowed his eyes slightly, but despite his annoyance there was a hint of a smile around his mouth. Dean crinkled up his nose in defiance. The other man smirked for real and went back to staring out the window at the passing scenery.

"So get this," Sam began, looking up from his phone for the first time since leaving the motel. "I've been looking into that problem in Boulder and at first I thought it looked like a pretty standard salt-and-burn but then I noticed that it wasn't confined to only one building."

"So?" asked Dean, "we both know that ghosts can attach themselves to physical objects. Maybe the ghost is hitching a ride on someone who spends time in all the buildings. Or maybe there's multiple ghosts."

"Yeah that's what I thought at first too," said Sam, "but I looked a little deeper and noticed that the buildings have literally nothing in common. There's three of them––a nursing home, a grocery store and a hospital. And there's no crossover employment and they're not owned by the same person. They're on completely different sides of town."

"Okay Sam it still just sounds like 3 different ghosts," Dean replied.

"Yeah but the M.O. is the same at all three. There have been three bodies discovered so far and in every single case they were in the bathroom and the mirror had shattered. But the cause of death for all three were heart attacks. And no, the victims aren't related in any way that I can find, so it's not haunting a family." Sam said, cutting Dean off before he could interrupt.

"Okay, so we're back to the carrier object thing. Someone is bringing the ghost to these buildings." Dean said.

"Yeah but that doesn't make sense either. Cause here's the weirdest part: all three deaths happened at the same exact time––down to the minute. The victim's watches all froze at 3:27 last night and the guy who did the autopsies on all three put their times of death down at around 3:30."

"Okay, that's weird." Dean admitted. He shifted gears and sidled over into the right lane. "Wait, Sam how do you know all this stuff? We haven't interviewed anybody yet."

"I hacked into the local police files." Sam said matter-of-factly, "And the hospital. And the morgue. It's actually really easy to bypass simple security walls once you know how." He admitted without a hint of remorse. Dean just looked at him in disbelief and shook his head slightly. Sam had always been a nerd.

"Dean." came a gravelly voice from the backseat and the hunter instantly flicked his eyes to the rearview to make sure everything was alright.

"Yeah, Cas?" he asked, looking his friend up and down and satisfying himself that everything was fine.

"I think I am experiencing hunger," said the ex-angel. "Would it be alright if we stopped and ate something soon?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, buddy. Next rest stop, okay?" Dean replied, feeling slightly guilty about not paying attention to Cas's needs. The dude had a serious wound. Of course he needed to eat.

He pulled the Impala into the nearest rest stop and decided to get some gas. As he was filling up the tank Sam carried the shopping bags full of fruit over to one of the vacant picnic tables while Cas watched curiously.

"Go sit down, Cas." said Dean from beside the pump, "You need to take care of yourself. Remember that you're human now." he didn't know why he'd said it but he was instantly glad he did because when Cas ambled over to the picnic table and sat the look of relief on his face told Dean that the guy hadn't noticed how much pain he really was in. Dean turned back to the gas pump and unhooked Baby from the machine. He paid with his phony credit card, reached into the trunk and resolutely pulled out the untouched cherry pie. There was no way he was gonna eat Sammy's salad.

When he joined the other two at the table Sam was already occupied with his laptop. Cas scooted over a little on the bench so Dean sat down next to him and popped the plastic top off his pie tin, sighing in pleasure. He had barely taken his first bite when he realized that the angel sitting next to him was staring dead at him with uncomfortable intensity. Dean turned his head.

"What?" he asked, mouth full and expression slightly uncomfortable. Sam looked up, smirked, and returned to his computer. Cas looked at Dean for another awkward second and then turned back to the apple and carrots that Sam had placed in front of him.

"Want some pie?" Dean asked, offering the extra fork he'd brought just in case. Cas's face lit up but it was Sam who answered.

"Dean of course he doesn't want pie. If Cas doesn't feel good he should be eating something that's not primarily chemicals." he said, looking disapprovingly at his older brother.

"Hey, there are cherries in this!" Dean said defensively.

"Actually I think I would like some pie," said Cas quietly, looking apologetically at Sam. Dean expected his brother to argue but Sam just stared at them both for a second, huffed, and returned to his work. Cas's silent look of triumph made Dean laugh and he passed the extra fork over. He knew the feeling––it was nice when Sam wasn't criticizing his culinary choices all day. The man in question was looking up at them again.

"At least take a plate. You don't have to eat it directly out of the tin." he said, reaching into his bag for another paper plate from his seemingly endless stash.

"The tin is fine." said Cas, and his tone brokered no argument. Dean looked at him with raised eyebrows but Sam just gave them both his classic bitchface and put the plate back. Dean grinned at his brother.

"Unlike you, Cas knows how to enjoy the finer things in life," he said, gripping his friend's shoulder affectionately. Cas didn't look up from the pie but he smiled a bit at the praise. Sam rolled his eyes and returned to his work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a washing machine and Cas finally explains to Dean everything that has happened.

The motel that they checked into upon arriving in a small town outside of Boulder was considerably nicer than the one Dean had stayed at. While Dean parked the car (with Cas asleep in the backseat) Sam went to the front desk and arranged everything. He came back with three keys in hand. He tossed two of them to Dean.

"Why two?" Dean asked, slipping both into his pocket none the less.

"Cause you and Cas are sharing." said Sam, smirking.

"What? Why aren't you and I sharing?" Dean asked, voice full of suspicion.

"Because Cas is wounded and I could only get two rooms. Don't worry, there's two beds, Dean." his little brother said, barely holding back a laugh. Dean glowered.

He had to admit, though, it did make sense. Cas wasn't well enough to sleep in a room by himself since he had no idea how to patch himself up if anything went wrong in the middle of the night. And he had come to Dean originally, so it made sense for the hunter to be the one who stayed with him. But Dean still felt weird about it. He tried to cover his discomfort by popping Baby's trunk and pulling their duffels out but he couldn't shake the feeling that Sam was laughing at him and he didn't understand why.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, "fine." He slammed the trunk shut and locked it, slung his duffel over his shoulder and tossed Sam's in his little brother's general direction.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean called, tapping on the window. Cas stirred slightly. "C'mon, buddy. We're here. You need to get out of the car." The ex-angel blinked up at him sleepily, not seeming to understand, but he got out of the car anyway and followed Dean towards the motel room.

"Do we have adjacent rooms?" he rumbled, confused.

"No, uh, Sam could only get two rooms. So he's taking the single and you and I are staying together in case you pull out your stitches in the middle of the night and need help or something. I mean unless you'd rather he stayed with you." Dean added, feeling the tips of his ears getting warm.

"I'd actually feel more comfortable with you, Dean." Cas replied matter-of-factly.

"Okay," said Dean cause he didn't know what else to say. He pulled both keys out of his pocket, handed one to Cas and turned the other in the lock.

Once they had gone inside and deposited their stuff on the beds (Dean always chose the one closest to the door so that he would be the first line of defense if anything came through during the night) he grabbed the wall phone and dialed the front desk. An aggressively cheerful lady picked up almost immediately.

"Welcome to the Fern Motel! My name is Carly! What can I do for you?" she asked. Her voice was a little too loud.

"Uh," said Dean, "I just need to know where your washing machine is." he rolled his eyes silently at Cas who smiled in sympathy.

"Sure thing! Take a right when you get to the icebox near the front office. It'll be in a little room, third door on the left. Anything else I can do for you?" she asked, and if possible her voice seemed to raise even higher in pitch.

"No. Thanks." said Dean shortly and hung up the phone before she could say anything else. He shook his head to clear his ears. Cas was looking at him curiously.

"Okay. Get your coat and your pants I guess...I'm gonna do a load of laundry." Dean instructed, gesturing vaguely towards the plastic shopping bag Cas had put all of his filthy clothes in. Cas complied and Dean went through his own bag, pulling out whatever seemed like it could do with a washing. No sense in wasting money. They emptied the rest of Dean's duffel out onto his bed and stuffed the dirty clothes into it so they wouldn't have to carry them in their arms. Dean slung the bag over his shoulder again as they left their motel room and trudged up to Sam's. Cas knocked on the door.

"Hang on!" came the voice from inside, and a second later Sam appeared, fully decked out in running clothes. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dean is going to teach me how to do laundry." Cas announced. Sam suppressed a smile.

"...And?" Sam prompted, because Cas obviously thought he had said enough.

"And do you have anything you need me to wash?" Dean supplied when Cas tilted his head sideways (and slightly upwards) at the younger Winchester.

"Uh, yeah hang on," said Sam, turning back into his motel room and shuffling around. He reappeared in a minute, cradling a fairly impressive pile of dirty clothes. Dean resignedly unzipped the bag and Sam dumped the contents of his arms into it.

"Thanks, guys," said Sam with a smile. "I'm gonna go on a run. I'll come by when I'm finished, okay? Call me if you go anywhere." He smiled at them both, closed the door and walked away, untangling his headphones as he went.

The washing machine itself was easy to find. Teaching Cas how to use it, however, was another matter. After about 15 minutes of Dean getting increasingly more frustrated ("No Cas I have no idea what Bio Wash means––just set it to normal") they set the (mercifully) empty duffel down on top of the rumbling machine and decided to wait. Dean climbed up and sprawled on top of the dryer while Cas sat down carefully on the supplied bench. They were quiet for a few minutes––again, the comfortable kind of silence––before Dean decided to ask what he'd been wondering since Cas had knocked on his door the night before.

"Hey...Cas?" he started. The other man looked up at him.

"What is it Dean?" he asked. The look on his face was carefully blank.

"How'd you know where to find me, man?" the hunter asked, shaking his head at his friend, "I mean not even Sam knew where I was. And you just showed up outta nowhere after no contact for like four whole days. How?" he asked again. There was a pause. Then...

"I tracked your cellphone." Cas answered simply.

"You what?" yelped Dean, and Cas looked slightly alarmed at his change in tone.

"Did I violate a boundary that I am not aware of?" he asked, concern briefly touching his features.

"No––I mean––yeah, but it's me so no, but just...how?" Dean asked. Cas looked grumpy.

"I'm not stupid, you know," he said, glaring at Dean through his lashes. "I'm capable of figuring things out." Dean sighed.

"No, dude that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is even I don't know how to track a phone call and I've been human my whole life." If possible, Cas looked even more offended.

"Sam taught me!" he said defensively. "It wasn't an attempt to invade your privacy. I was hurt and needed your help."

"Yeah, I get that. And I'm not mad, Cas. Just curious." Dean replied, trying to calm the situation. Then another thought occurred to him.

"Wait, were you working a case in Ohio because you tracked my phone and you knew that's where I was?" he asked, raising his eyebrows so high they looked as though they might disappear into his hairline altogether.

"...No." said Cas, but he looked horribly guilty. Dean passed a hand over his eyes.

"Dude if you wanted to come with me you could have just asked, you know." he said tiredly. Cas didn't respond. "You do know that I was worried about you, right?" he asked, hoping that this would provoke a reaction. It didn't. "Cas why didn't you pick up my calls if you were literally using my phone to track me?" he demanded, frustration mounting. Cas said nothing for so long that Dean thought that he was going to ignore the question entirely. And then...

"I wanted to know if I could do it myself." came the quiet reply. The ex-angel was suddenly studying the concrete floor with all the intensity his eyes could muster.

"What?" asked Dean, genuinely confused.

"I wanted to know if I could still hunt something alone. You know, now that I'm not an angel anymore." he looked up at Dean miserably. "I've been feeling like I burden you and Sam ever since I lost my grace. That's why I didn't pick up either of your calls. I wanted to see if I actually relied on you to carry my dead weight." he laughed bitterly. "I guess I do."

"What?" Dean asked again, but his tone was entirely different.

"I was wounded. I almost lost my blade. I had to come to you for help." said Cas, looking at the floor again. "I knew that that might happen which is why I found a case close to where you were working. In case I needed your help. Which I did." he said defeatedly.

Dean didn't know why he did it, but something compelled him to. He slid down off the dryer and walked towards Cas. When the other man didn't look up, Dean sat down next to him on the bench and put his arm around Cas's shoulders. Cas tensed like he wasn't expecting the contact, and honestly Dean hadn't been expecting it either. But Cas was sad and Dean had been where he was and he knew what it felt like to believe that you were a burden. Useless. Maybe even alone. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Cas," he started, and the ex-angel looked at him. "Uh. Look. I know how you feel. I can't tell you how many times that I've felt like I was a burden to someone or that I was holding them back. Dad, Sammy––hell, even you once or twice." he said smiling wanly at his friend. Cas raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Dean continued. "But Cas you have to realize that you're not in this alone. Trying to do it all by yourself––that's what will make you weak. Trust me, I know. Relying on the people who love you, your family...that will make you stronger than ever." he cleared his throat. "Sam and I are your family, Cas. So don't you ever think that you're a burden. We look out for our own, alright?" he squeezed his friend's shoulder. "They way I see it, you may not be an angel anymore. And that's okay. Because now you're a hunter. And that's more than good enough." He finished speaking and went back over what he had said internally. It had all sounded much lamer out loud than it had in his head.

He couldn't look at Cas because he didn't want to see if what he'd said had made things worse. But just as the former angel's silence was getting unbearable, Cas shifted ever so slightly and rested the weight of his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean froze. He didn't know how to react, so he didn't react at all. And then Cas rumbled "Thank you, Dean," quietly and the hunter felt some of the knot in his stomach release slowly as he relaxed.

The washing machine chose that moment to announce that it was finished by beeping loudly. Dean jumped up and pulled open the top to inspect the sopping clothes inside. Everything seemed fine. So he busied himself with shoving everything into the dryer and tried not to think about how his side felt cold from the sudden loss of contact and the fact that his friend hadn't moved an inch since Dean had gotten up to switch the laundry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get settled and do some research. More adorable awkwardness and feelings.

Dean lay on his bed in a pile of warm clean clothes that he had absolutely no intention of folding. Cas was in the bathroom redressing his wound and Dean breathed in the silence, purposefully keeping his head clear of thoughts. He knew there were things that he had to think about, important things. But he did what he always did with his feelings and pushed them down until he could find a more appropriate time to deal with them.

As Dean shifted his weight something dug into his back. He grunted and pulled out the offending item from under him. It was a buckle, which was attached to belt, which in turn was attached to a familiar khaki trench coat. Dean hummed in irritation. Well at least it wasn't dirty anymore. He flipped over and sat up to inspect the rest of the clothing.

It only took him a few seconds to find Cas's pants, given the fact that they were not something that he would ever personally wear. He folded the pants and placed them on top of the trench coat before realizing that he had shredded Cas's shirt in the process of getting it off him. The hunter rolled his eyes and started to dig through the rest of the clean clothes. He had to have button down with him somewhere. Finally he found one––not white, like what Cas usually wore, but he figured that his friend wouldn't object to maroon just as long as he didn't have to wear a ratty AC/DC t-shirt anymore. Dean folded up the shirt too and went to knock on the bathroom door.

"Yes?" came the concerned reply. Dean snorted.

"I have your clothes. You're gonna have to borrow one of my shirts until we can get you a new one since I kinda destroyed yours when I was getting it off you. Sorry." he put a cautious hand on the doorknob. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." said Cas through the door.

"Uh...you are wearing clothes, right?" Dean asked. He had to be sure. There had been that one time with the bees.

Instead of answering Cas opened the door and raised his eyebrows at Dean in irritation. Dean pulled the sassiest face he could muster (which managed to get a twitch of a smile from the ex-angel) and presented Cas with his newly clean clothes.

"Thank you." Cas replied, still looking annoyed but also slightly mollified. He disappeared behind the door again and Dean flopped back down on the bed. He had barely had a chance to close his eyes before he heard a knock on the door and Sam calling "I brought beer!", his voice heavily muffled by the plywood. Dean reluctantly stood up and let his brother in. Thankfully Sam had decided to shower before joining them so he didn't smell too much like a runner. Dean greeted him with a yawn.

"Dude you look exhausted," Sam observed, scrutinizing his brother in the unflattering motel room light.

"I know, I know," said Dean, waving him away impatiently. "I haven't slept much in the past couple of days, that's all. I'll sleep tonight."

Cas came out of the bathroom, doing up the last few buttons of his shirt.

"Hello Sam." he said gruffly, acknowledging the younger Winchester's presence with a small smile before opening the fridge and searching for something to drink.

"Here, Dean." Sam said, trying to hand over the beers. But his hand hung in empty air. Dean was distracted. He was focused on the man rummaging around in the mini-fridge. Cas looked good in maroon. Sam noticed him staring at their friend and made an amused noise that Dean didn't acknowledge. Then Cas turned around, noticed Dean starting at him, looked behind him to see if there was anything there and turned back to the hunter when he found nothing.

"What?" he asked, uncapping his beer.

"Nothing," Dean replied, shaking his head. "Just...you can keep that shirt. It looks way better on you than it does on me. Maroon's not my color." he clarified when Sam made a spluttering noise that he almost succeeded in turning into a cough. Dean felt his ears burn red. He snatched the beers from his brother and marched over to the table, slamming them down next to his laptop and busying himself with the case. He could hear Sam telling Cas about his run but he wanted to do pretty much anything except focus on the two men in the kitchen. Serial killer ghosts seemed much easier to deal with.

The hunter looked over the notes that they had compiled on the case so far. It was pretty much all exactly as Sam had explained to him in the car––three unrelated people with no personal history between them, three completely separate buildings and definitely one force behind it all. Dean didn't usually think of himself as "the smart one" but he had to admit that he loved thinking about cases like this. There was something incredibly satisfying about a good challenge––and thinking long and hard about something this complicated left very little room for any other thoughts at all.

He examined the medical record of the woman who had died in the nursing home. She was a caregiver, not a patient––nurse Rebecca Wilson. 53 years old, in good health, no previous problems with her heart. Nothing to indicate gambling or drug habits or anything else that could have driven her to make a deal with a demon or something of that kind. There really didn't seem to be anything helpful in her file. Dean sighed and picked up the file containing the medical records of the guy who had died in the grocery store. Harrison Boomer. He was the owner's son––19, an avid lacrosse player as well as a talented artist. He didn't seem like a douche either, or like he was into anything sketchy, but then again Dean had a hard time figuring teenagers out. No health problems to speak of, just a slight allergy to shrimp. Dean sighed. Maybe they had been attacked by the ghost of a giant evil crustacean. His stomach rumbled and he snapped his laptop shut, effectively stopping his research for the night. There was no way he could focus with his lack of sleep and scattered mind.

Sam and Cas were still in the kitchen, sipping beers and discussing something in measured tones. Dean decided he didn't want to know what they were talking about so he cleared his throat loudly as he entered the room and they both turned around. He looked at his watch.

"It's like 6:30, are you guys hungry?" he asked, hopefully. Sam shrugged.

"I could eat," he said. Cas just nodded.

"Right." said Dean. "Okay well I think we passed a burger joint on the way into town, wanna try there?" Sam pursed his lips but at the hopeful expression on Cas's face he rolled his eyes and acquiesced. Dean grinned at him as he shrugged on his leather jacket. "Don't worry, Sammy, they'll probably have some pickles or something. Those are vegetables." he teased.

"Ha ha." said Sam, but he was smiling. Dean had to admit––he had missed this. Traveling across the country with his brother and his angel, unconcerned about anything larger than a couple monsters and where they were gonna get their next meal. The apocalypse(s) hadn't really left any time for family bonding.

They pulled out of the Fern Motel's parking lot and headed down the street. In a couple miles the burger joint––Andy's––appeared on their left, and Dean maneuvered Baby into the parking spot closest to the door so Cas wouldn't have to walk too far with his healing wound. The waitress was pretty and Dean couldn't help but wink at her when she pointed them towards a well-lit booth in the corner. She ignored him and he grinned at Sam who smirked back. This was fun.

They slid onto the benches and the waitress came over and took drink orders. As they were waiting for their beers Dean turned to Cas on his left and asked

"How's your cut?" Cas thought for a moment and then replied

"Painful, but less so than it was before you fixed it."

"I didn't fix it, Cas." Dean said, rolling his eyes. "You still have to be careful." The ex-angel grinned at him.

"I m always careful." he teased, slightly sarcastic.

"Yeah, okay, Mr. I-Can-Take-On-A-Whole-Vamp-Nest-Alone." Dean snorted and looked up as the waitress arrived with their drinks. He took a swig of the beer she passed him and raised his eyebrows at Sam who was watching him with a knowing expression. Dean was too content to think overly hard about it.

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly. Dean and Cas both ordered cheeseburgers while, much to Dean's dismay, Sam had the veggie burger. He was really starting to get tired of Sam's health-food kick. The three of them shared a basket of fries and Sam told Cas and Dean about finishing up the case in Virginia. After another round of beers and the two hunters recounting some of their old cases to Cas, the three of them piled into the Impala and headed back to the motel. Sam opened the passenger side door.

"Can I get those files from your room? You need sleep and I don't think you're gonna be able to do any research tonight so I might as well." Dean nodded in thanks, digging in his pocket for his key. It wasn't there. With a groan he remembered that he'd left it on the bedside table when he changed into clean clothes. He turned hopefully to Cas who seemed to read his mind and produced a key from the pocket of his trench coat with a long-suffering expression on his face. Once they were inside Cas disappeared into the bathroom and Dean gathered up the papers. He handed them to Sam, who said goodnight and left without another word. Dean relaxed into the quiet as he sat down on his bed.

"May I borrow your toothpaste?" Cas asked from the bathroom door. He was wearing Dean's sweatpants and t-shirt again.

"Uh, yeah," Dean replied. "Do you even have a toothbrush?"

"Sam purchased one for me." announced the ex-angel, presenting it to Dean. It was purple.

"Awesome..." Dean muttered, digging the tube of toothpaste out of his bag and tossing it to his friend. Cas disappeared again so Dean took advantage of the momentary privacy and changed into his PJ bottoms and a freshly washed t-shirt. He padded over and joined Cas at the bathroom sink, running his own toothbrush under the water. He vaguely wondered who had taught Cas how to brush his teeth––was that something he had had to do as an angel? His friend slipped past him back into the room and Dean could hear him shuffling around his bed, carefully removing pillows from the bed and placing them on the floor. The hunter spit into the sink and took a mouthful of water directly from the tap.

When he emerged from the bathroom toweling off his freshly washed face Cas was tucked under the covers reading a book. Dean couldn't make out the title.

"What're you reading?" he enquired. Cas looked up at him.

"It's called The Sword in the Stone. Sam lent it to me. It's interesting but I am having trouble understanding some of the characters' motivations." he replied, wrinkling his brow and gazing suspiciously at the book. Dean tried not to smile.

"I need to check on your stitches, okay?" he said instead. Cas nodded and pushed the covers back, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed and sitting up straight. Dean knelt in front of him and lifted the bottom of his t-shirt just enough to expose the healing wound. The other man peeled off the bandage so that Dean could see the cut itself. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly over the area surrounding it and Cas inhaled sharply. Dean furrowed his brow at the angel. There was no way a touch as light as that had hurt.

"Well, it looks good to me. Just keep doing what you're doing." the hunter instructed before noticing with a weird kind of detachment that his hand was still resting on Cas's side. He looked up at the angel who was staring at him with an expression Dean didn't recognize. Dean swallowed and removed his hand, pulling the bandage back over the wound and taping it in place. He let Cas's t-shirt fall back over the man's stomach and stood, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Uh," he muttered, staring at his friend. He abruptly turned and climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to his neck so that only his head was exposed. It felt safer and way less awkward that way. "Goodnight," he muttered, flipping off his bedside lamp and turning so his back was to the angel. After a brief moment Dean heard Cas pick his book up and flip back to the page he'd been reading before he had been interrupted. But as Dean dozed off he didn't hear another page turn and instead felt the angel's eyes burning into his back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a nightmare. Also meerkats.

"Dean. Dean!" came a gravelly voice through the dark. Dean jolted awake, disoriented and gasping for air. He felt cold sweat on his back and gagged at the bitter taste in his mouth. Someone flicked on the light and suddenly he couldn't see. He swung out blindly at whatever was attacking him and his fist connected with something soft. There was a surprised grunt and a thud, and when Dean's eyes adjusted enough for him to make out basic shapes he saw Cas, crumpled on the floor by his bed, glaring.

It took Dean another second to figure out what was going on. He realized that he was tangled up in damp sheets and that he had bitten the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. And then he realized that Cas had been trying to wake him up from a nightmare and he had flipped out and punched the poor guy in the face.

"Cas, I'm sorry." he croaked, voice still heavy with sleep. The ex-angel sat up. His angry expression gave way to one of concern as he looked at Dean's face.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and staring at Dean like he was trying to read his mind. Dean shook his head. He couldn't remember anything.

"I literally have no idea, dude. I'm sorry I woke you." he replied, passing a hand over his eyes and mouth.

"It's alright," Cas said, "I wasn't asleep." Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly and tried to untangle himself from the sheets. Cas didn't say anything and Dean didn't want to push it, so he just sighed and stood up, stretching. He offered a hand to Cas and pulled the ex-angel up.

"Would you like to attempt to sleep again?" asked Cas, squinting at him in concern. Dean shook his head.

"It looks like I already got my four hours," he said, glancing at the bedside clock. It read 3:38. Cas just looked at him blankly. Dean wandered over to his bag to change into a slightly less sweaty t-shirt. "Are you tired?" he asked, pulling his shirt up over his head. Cas looked at him and quickly looked away. If Dean hadn't known better he could've sworn he saw the ex-angel blush. It wasn't like Cas to be uncomfortable with bodies and the fact that he was made Dean wish he had gone into the bathroom to change. He quickly pulled the fresh t-shirt on over his head and turned to dump the old one back into his bag. "Cas?" he asked.

"I tried to sleep but I couldn't." Cas said, looking the hunter directly in the eyes again. Dean frowned in sympathy. "I don't like sleeping." Cas admitted. "I always feel disoriented when I wake."

"Do you want to read your book?" Dean suggested. The other man shook his head."Well uh, we could watch TV or something..." Dean said, reaching into the mini fridge and pulling out a beer. He offered one to Cas who walked over and took it, still staring the hunter straight in the face. After a moment the angel smiled.

"Yes." he said, "I'd like that."

They found some stupid late night show on Animal Planet. Cas was fascinated by the meerkats on camera, but Dean found himself tuning out the program and just basking in the comforting sound and light coming from the screen. He put his feet up on the coffee table and settled back into the couch. Cas had his legs curled under him and was watching the screen with rapt attention, his beer completely forgotten on the table in front of him. Dean finished his own beer and leaned forward to take Cas's. The dude didn't seem to want it anyway.

They sat like that, lazy and comfortable, all the way through the meerkat show and on to one about sunfish. Cas didn't love sunfish as much as he had loved the meerkats ("Why is it shaped like that, Dean? Is it injured?") and so he took to focusing his intense gaze on the hunter every few minutes instead. Dean felt like he probably should mind, but he didn't. It was comforting to have his friend there.

It was nice that Cas had woken him when he realized Dean was having a nightmare. The last time someone had chased away his bad dreams must've been when he was a little kid and his mom was still alive. He had no recollection of John ever doing that and Sammy slept like the dead so it was entirely possible that he would just sleep through any amount of Dean thrashing around. But not Cas. Cas had always tried to protect Dean from the monsters, even the ones in his own head.

Dean didn't remember falling asleep, but at some point in the night he must have. When he woke it was morning and Cas was nowhere in sight. The hunter could hear the shower going in the other room and he figured the other man must have decided to let him sleep. He shifted comfortably, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling in to its warmth. Wait. Blanket? That definitely hadn't been there before.

Dean sat up and looked around the room. Everything looked pretty much the same as it had the night before, with one notable exception. Cas had pulled the comforter off his own bed and wrapped it around Dean as he slept. The hunter sat very still for a minute and took that in. Then he rolled his eyes. Cas worried too much––he had probably been afraid that Dean would catch cold if he fell asleep with nothing to keep him warm but his t-shirt and sweatpants. He wasn't even wearing socks, something that Cas had almost certainly noticed. The dude was weirdly observant about that kind of thing.

Dean settled back into the couch and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He was comfortable and warm and there really wasn't any reason to get up. The muffled hiss of the shower was soothing in the background and he felt his eyes begin to close again. In the last few seconds before he drifted off, a vague impression of the night before came back to him. Just a moment––Cas wrapping him in the blanket and looking at him seriously for a second before standing up turn off the tv and the lights. The soft press of the darkness against his eyes and, right before he fell asleep, the cautious brush of someone else's fingers through his hair. When Dean woke to Sam barging through the door a little later, any memory of the night before had fled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV: they start doing research/interviews to solve the new case. He's also trying to figure out how to get Dean/Cas to figure themselves out.

Sam scrunched up his nose in frustration and squinted at his laptop screen. He'd been searching for hours and couldn't find anything even remotely helpful online about any of the buildings involved in the hauntings. No suspicious deaths during construction, nothing to suggest that the land that any of them were built on had ever been used for anything else. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Generally the first thing he looked into was the possibility of restless spirits. It was usually pretty easy to see if anything unusual was going on with deaths in the area. But this case was different. The problem was that two of the three buildings were places that dealt with death every single day: a nursing home and a hospital. That, coupled with the fact that the third building was a random grocery store, and Sam was completely and entirely lost. He wished briefly for Bobby, then pushed the thought away.

The hunter got up and stretched his entire body. His fingers brushed against the stucco ceiling of the motel room and Sam sighed, passing a hand through his hair again. It was time for a change of scenery. The wallpaper in the motel room was bright and garish and didn't lend itself well to focused work. He decided to go see what Cas and Dean were up to.

When he found his brother and the ex-angel they were leaning on the hood of the Impala talking. Sam stopped a fair distance away to watch. Dean was laughing at something, head thrown back towards the sky and shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. Cas looked embarrassed but pleased, obviously not understanding what was funny but proud that he had made Dean laugh. Sam couldn't help but smile.

He couldn't hear what they were saying but seeing his brother that happy was something that he didn't get to do very often. Dean was almost always focused on the negative or trying to block out his feelings with sarcasm and childish humor. It wasn't that he was miserable––Sam had seen Dean miserable; he knew how bad that could get––but he also wasn't happy. It was something in his nature that kept him from being comfortable. Dean didn't trust any good feelings because all his life whenever he'd gotten something good it had been ripped away from him just when he had started to let himself believe that he really could keep it.

Sam thought about approaching them but he didn't want to interrupt the scene before him. Dean was resting his hand on Cas's arm and the ex-angel leaned in with a grin to say something that made Dean laugh again. Cas always brought out the part of Dean that Sam liked the most. He loved when his older brother dropped the playboy, fuck-the-world facade that he had spent years building and was content to just be who he was. _Something about Cas makes Dean feel deserving of happiness_ , Sam thought to himself. Of course he could see what was happening. It had been happening for years. But both Dean and Cas seemed entirely oblivious to it.

Dean chose that moment to glance over towards the motel building and notice Sam watching the two of them. He grinned.

"Sammy!" he called, waving his arm above his head and straightening up. Sam waved back and ambled over to his brother and Cas who was still smiling about what ever the two of them had found so funny moments before.

"What's up, guys?" Sam asked, smirking at his brother knowingly. He couldn't help it. It pissed Dean off so much when Sam acted like he knew something his brother didn't. Sure enough Dean narrowed his eyes but the smile didn't disappear from his face.

"Any luck on the research front?" he asked. Sam shook his head and Dean grimaced in sympathy.

"Well then we should split up and interview some people since we're not getting anything done here," Dean suggested and Sam nodded in agreement.

"Awesome." replied his brother. "Suit up and we'll meet back here in 15."

A few minutes later the three of them were changed and buckling into the Impala. Sam had made a spur-of-the-moment decision when they were getting in the car and instead of taking his usual seat in the front he had slid into the back, claiming that Cas's wound gave him a right to more leg room. Dean hadn't complained at all, which made Sam grin to himself. He tried to conceal it by staring out the window as they drove but he was really watching the two men in the front seat.

Dean was explaining his "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole" rule to Cas who looked unamused.

"But Dean this song is so grating," he complained, looking reproachfully at Dean through his eyelashes.

"What are you talking about? This is Metallica! It's classic." Dean replied grinning at Cas and very purposefully turning the volume up louder. The angel huffed and went back to staring out the window. Dean started singing along to the music, banging his hands on the steering wheel in rhythm with the drums. He was clearly doing it to piss Cas off and Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes and grin. His brother was such an idiot.

A short drive later they pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home and Dean parked the Impala under a tree. He looked Cas up and down, straightened his tie, and then turned to Sam in the backseat.

"Divide and conquer?" he asked. Sam nodded.

"Cas can come with me," Sam suggested. He saw the smallest flicker of disappointment cross his brother's face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Dean popped open the driver-side door and stepped out onto the asphalt with a nod.

After briefly flashing their fake badges at the front desk, the brothers and Cas split up to see what they could find. Dean went to go check out the bathroom where the death had occurred and Sam and Cas went to interview the director of the nursing home. His office was small and crowded and the man himself was portly and completely bald. He greeted them nervously.

Once they were settled, Sam pulled out his notepad to take down whatever information he could.

"So, Mr. Cabot," he began, uncapping his pen, "What can you tell us about Nurse Rebecca Wilson?"

The director scratched his chin nervously.

"Well she was senior staff," he supplied, scrunching his nose in concentration. "And she was on her way towards a promotion. Good lady. Good lady." he mumbled, seemingly unaware that he was talking out loud. Sam scribbled the information down on his paper.

"And did she have any enemies? Anyone who might have held a grudge against her?" he asked, looking up from his notes.

"Enemies? She died from a heart attack!" the director said nervously, glancing back and forth between Sam and Cas. Sam smiled in an attempt to calm him down.

"We just need to cover all the bases. There are a few routine questions that we always have to ask." he explained soothingly. The man looked slightly pacified. "Now...was there anything happening in her life? Money problems? Marriage troubles?" he asked, looking the director in the eyes again.

"No, nothing! Well at least not anything bad." the nervous man answered. "She had actually just gotten back in contact with her sister. She was really excited about it."

"Sister?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," the director responded. "I guess they hadn't spoken in years but Rebecca went to go visit her last week. It was a big deal for her."

"Do you have her sister's address?" Sam asked, and the director shook his head.

"I do have her name, though, if that helps. It's Halley Wilson."

Sam jotted the name down and tucked his notepad and pen back into his jacket. He smiled at the director again.

"Well, I think that's all we need. Thank you Mr. Cabot. You've been very helpful." The man smiled weakly as Sam got up and Cas followed him through the door. As soon as the two of them were in the hallway Cas turned to Sam.

"Do you suspect Halley Wilson?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

"I don't know. I won't know anything until we interview her." the taller man replied. "We should probably go find Dean and see if he's got anything." Sam pretended not to notice how Cas's eyes lit up at the suggestion of meeting back up with his older brother.

They bumped into Dean on the way out of the lobby.

"Find anything?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head in frustration.

"No hex bags, no EMF, no ectoplasm, nothing. Absolutely nothing." he grumbled, running his hands through his hair so that it stuck up strangely in the front. Sam noticed Cas's fingers twitch like he wanted to reach up and fix it, but the ex-angel clearly thought better of it because instead of running his fingers through Dean's hair he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Sam pressed his lips together. This was getting painful.

"What about you guys?" Dean asked, looking back and forth between his brother and Cas, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anything was going on.

"Yes. The uncomfortable man told us that Rebecca Wilson had a sister." Cas supplied. "Dean, am I going to lose my hair?" he asked, looking concernedly at the hunter. Sam swallowed a laugh.

"Cas...what?" Dean asked, making a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about face at the ex-angel. Cas looked even more worried.

"Baldness is unattractive, Dean." he explained.

"Okay but...why are you suddenly worried about this?" Dean asked, looking at Sam for help. Sam just shrugged.

"The uncomfortable man was bald."

"Oh." Dean said. "Well, um. I dunno, Cas. You might go bald someday. It's not a big deal." He was clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. Sam held his breath, trying not to laugh. He thought about rescuing his brother but decided against it. It was too funny to watch Dean try to deal with the situation by himself.

"Yes but I don't want to be bald." Cas said, scrunching his face up in concern again. Dean pulled a bitchface.

"Well, you're not. So don't worry about it. Sammy will probably go bald before either of us anyway." Dean said, grinning at his brother over Cas's head. Sam huffed but Cas was smiling a little bit. Dean turned and marched back towards the Impala, effectively ending the baldness conversation. Sam smiled comfortingly at Cas who still looked concerned and followed after his brother.

Once they were all in the car and pulling out of the parking lot, Dean turned to Sam in the backseat.

"Where to?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Sam shook his head.

"We need to go back to the motel. All I have is a name and I have to figure out where this lady lives. I'm gonna need some time to do research."

Dean nodded and merged onto the freeway. As sneakily as possible Cas reached over and turned down the volume on the radio. Of course Dean noticed. Sam leaned back against the Impala's leather interiors and closed his eyes. He did the best he could to tune out their escalating argument and thought about how he could get his brother to confront his feelings for the angel. He had thought that forcing them to share a room would've gotten at least some reaction, but it didn't seem to have done anything. Sam decided that more drastic measures were required. He just had to think of what those drastic measures were going to be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY

"Cas, I need sleep!" the hunter barked, sitting up and glaring at his friend.

"Yes I know that, Dean, but we really do need to talk about this," the angel responded, no small amount of anger present in his tone. Dean rolled his eyes and pressed his face into the pillow with a groan. He had been trying to take advantage of Sam's absence to get a much-needed nap. Sam had even outright told him that he didn't need Dean and Cas to accompany him to interview Halley Wilson. Why now of all times Cas had decided to bring up Dean's overprotectiveness he didn't know.

"Cas we've been through this like six times," he growled into his pillow. "You're human now and you have to take care of yourself. It's not my fault that you're crappy at it."

The other man snatched the pillow off his head and threw it across the room. He yanked Dean up by the arm and got right up in his face.

"I may be human, Dean, but I am certainly not weak. I am just as capable as you and I am tired of you treating me as though I were going to fly apart at any moment." he hissed, eyes narrowed in an impression of the Cas that Dean had first met all those years ago in that barn. Dean pushed him off with a huff and marched away towards the couch, Cas following close behind.

"Dean. Dean! Do not ignore me!" Cas demanded, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. The hunter spun around in a fraction of a second and knocked the other man's hand off his shoulder, maybe a little harder than necessary.

"This conversation is not happening, Cas." he barked, "End of discussion."

Dean thought Cas was going to hit him––the angel was glaring at him so intensely that Dean could literally feel the burn of his anger––and so he raised his arm automatically in anticipation. But Cas didn't hit him. Instead he did something that surprised Dean even more––he reached up, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him. Cas kissed him.

It was chaste and violent and over before Dean had even really had time to register that it was happening. The hunter was frozen in place, eyes wide open in shock. And the second that it was over Cas looked more embarrassed than Dean had ever seen him. He instantly dropped his hands and stared furiously at the desk in the corner of the motel room.

Dean felt white hot anger boil up in him, and he opened his mouth to yell at the man in front of him––probably _what the hell, dude?!_ or _don't touch me!_ or something along those lines––but his breath abandoned him in the last moment and he ended up just glaring at Cas with his mouth open like a fish out of water. The ex-angel's eyes were roaming all over the room, looking anywhere but Dean. The color was rising in his cheeks, a blush to rival the heat of Dean's own face. And the hunter didn't know what possessed him to do it but all of a sudden he reached forward, grabbed Cas by the lapels of his stupid trench coat and slammed their mouths together.

It was obviously the last thing that Cas had been expecting. The former angel yelped in shock and threw his arms out to steady himself as Dean yanked him off balance. His body went rigid as Dean pulled him closer into the kiss, eyes resolutely closed and brain trying desperately to shut off. But when the hunter slid his tongue roughly over Cas's lower lip, the other man honest-to-god-whimpered and his body melted against Dean's, fingers sliding up to tangle in the short blonde hair at the base of Dean's neck.

The kiss started off angry and rough but Cas was making these little noises and Dean couldn't stay mad. He hungrily pushed his tongue deeper into the other man's mouth, releasing the death grip on his coat and sliding an arm around his Cas's waist to pull the angel flush against his body. Cas moaned at the contact and tried to press himself even closer to Dean, standing on his tiptoes to get better access to the hunter's mouth. The angel's tongue shyly flicked out to meet Dean's and Dean couldn't help himself––he audibly gasped. Cas smiled into the kiss at his reaction and Dean suddenly felt the urge to roll his eyes. Cheeky bastard.

In one smooth motion he had flipped Cas around and pinned him against the wall. For a ridiculous moment Dean was reminded of the frickin pizza man––he shook his head to dispel that thought and instead looked at Cas, who was gazing up at him with an expression that the hunter didn't recognize. Dean studied his face. Cas's lips were parted slightly, breath coming in short little gasps. His pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed and hair even more disheveled than normal.

"Dean..." he breathed, so quietly that it was almost like he was afraid of breaking a spell or interrupting a dream. The hunter cupped his face with one hand, still pressing him against the wall, and pulled him in for another kiss. Cas kissed back hungrily, trying to take control, but Dean pushed him back against the wall and pulled away, eyes narrowed in warning.

"Cas." he growled, and before he had time to think _no this is a bad idea this is wrong_ he had slid his fingers up under the hem of Cas's button-down and was tracing out little circles on the other man's bare skin. Cas shivered at his touch, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall. Dean took the opportunity to leave a trail of scorching kisses along Cas's neck, pressing the angel harder against the wall with his body. The instant Cas felt Dean's lips on his throat he turned his head, exposing more of his neck to the hunter.

Dean's mind was racing. He knew he should be scared or disgusted or freaked out––everything he had beaten into his brain his whole life told him that his was not how straight dudes acted with other dudes. But the problem was that the liked this way too much to be ashamed of it, at least for now. The feeling of Cas beneath him––so breathless and overwhelmed and pliant––had to be one of the best things that Dean had experienced in years.

Without making a conscious decision, Dean slipped his hands out of the angel's shirt and slid them up over his chest, desperately searching for the topmost button. Cas's fingers threaded into Dean's hair and he pulled Dean's head up from his neck. The hunter was confronted with the shocking blue of his eyes, their faces so close together that Dean could've counted his dark eyelashes if he had decided to. He went still and waited to see what Cas wanted.

The ex-angel didn't kiss him. Instead he stared at him, long and intense, with his head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. After a moment that seemed to stretch on for hours, Cas's fingers reached up and traced lightly over the smattering of freckles across Dean's nose. Dean suddenly felt overwhelmingly shy. He swallowed heavily and tried to look away but Cas's eyes kept him frozen in place.

"Dean..." said Cas again, his brows drawing together and his eyes narrowing slightly, "you just kissed me."

Dean blinked in shock. Then he laughed.

"Excellent observational skills, Cas." he said, rolling his eyes. Cas pulled a bitchface but it was entirely half-hearted. After a moment the look of confusion returned to his face.

"Why?" he asked, tilting his head at Dean again. The hunter raised an eyebrow.

"Why what?" he asked.

"Why did you kiss me?" the angel said, narrowing his eyes at Dean in suspicion. Dean didn't know what to say.

"Uh...cause I wanted to?" he supplied, uncomfortable with having to explain himself. "Also you kissed me first, man. This isn't on me." he said defensively. Cas blinked.

"I didn't do it on purpose," he said, looking guilty. Dean cracked a smile.

"Yeah well I guess I'm just irresistible," he joked, trying to alleviate the awkwardness. Cas closed his eyes and breathed in like he was trying to hold on to his patience.

"Dean." He said, eyes still closed.

"Cas." Dean said stubbornly. He wasn't going to let Cas overthink things or he would start to overthink them too.

"I wasn't aware that you were physically attracted to me." the angel said, opening his eyes again. The tips of Dean's ears went bright pink.

"Uh...me neither, I guess. It just sorta happened," he said awkwardly. "I dunno, man, if it's an issue then we can forget about it." he stepped away from Cas so he was no longer pinning him to the wall. The angel whined at the loss of contact and reached after him. Dean felt heat pool in his stomach again but ignored it. Which wasn't easy to do with Cas gazing at him like the hunter was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

Dean pressed his lips together awkwardly and swung his arms back and forth for a second, unsure of what to do. And just as he was starting to turn away, Cas reached out and placed a hand directly over the place on Dean's arm where his handprint used to be.

Pleasure buzzed through Dean like electricity and he was frozen to the spot, staring at Cas with wide eyes. The angel stepped closer, tilting his head slightly. More slowly than Dean thought was possible he stood up on his tiptoes, leaned in, and pressed his mouth to Dean's. The hunter melted against Cas, eyes closed and a hum of pleasure caught in his throat. He decided to let Cas set the pace, do whatever he needed to do to be comfortable.

It was nothing like their frantic kisses before. Cas's mouth was gentle and unhurried as he thoroughly explored the inside of Dean's. He tasted like honey and something sharp and fresh that reminded the hunter of thunderstorms or nighttime in the mountains. The hand Cas had laid against Dean's mark stayed firmly on his shoulder but the other slid down and the angel gently laced their fingers together.

It had honestly been years since Dean had been kissed like this––soft and sweet and unhurried. Most of the action he got was from random women at random bars on random one night stands. It was just two people seeking comfort and satisfaction in each other. An escape. Something to pass the time. But this felt entirely different. Usually when he kissed someone he just wanted to get into their pants, but for some reason he felt like he could stand in the middle of this stupid motel room kissing Cas just like this forever. As if on cue the angel breathed a sigh of complete satisfaction into his mouth and kissed him deeper, sliding the hand that had been on his shoulder up to cup his cheek. Cas's thumb skipped over the stubble on his jawline and Dean felt the other man smile.

Of course Sam chose that moment to pound on their motel room door and shout "Hey guys I think I figured it out!" through the plywood. Cas pulled away with a frustrated whine and Dean groaned, pressing his forehead against the ex-angel's. Cas breathed a laugh.

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean muttered, but he wasn't really mad. He thought about how he and Cas were sharing a room and how they would have all night to make up for lost time once Sam left. The angel tugged on his hand.

"I think you'd better get the door, Dean," he suggested. Dean looked at him and laughed. The frustration was evident on the ex-angel's face, barely hidden by his attempt at his usual stoic expression. Dean stepped back from him and marched over to the door. He pulled it open and raised both eyebrows at Sam who had his arms full of books and his laptop balanced precariously on top.

"Yes?" he asked, doing his best you-just-woke-me-up-and-I'm-pissy-about-it voice. Sam grimaced at him.

"Let me in, Dean." he insisted, shoving his foot in the crack between the door and its frame. Dean opened the door a little wider and Sam sidled through. Dean shut the door and when he turned around he was impressed to find that while he had been letting Sammy in Cas had turned on the TV and flopped onto the couch like everything was completely normal. He suppressed a smirk.

Sam dumped all his stuff on to the small coffee table, snatched the remote from Cas (who looked up passively at the hunter towering over him) and turned the TV off. He looked back and forth from Cas to Dean waiting for one of them to ask. Finally Dean rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

"Okay, Sammy. Spit it out. What do you want to tell us?" he asked in a long-suffering tone. Sam grinned at him.

"I solved the case. I know what we're fighting and what we have to do to get rid of it."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry

It was cold outside the grocery store. Dean's breath fogged in the air and he shoved his fists deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket, trying to huddle closer under the bus stop's shelter. Sam was busy doing something on his phone and Cas looked completely unfazed by the cold––despite the fact that his trench coat couldn't have been warm enough.

Dean shifted his weight uncomfortably. He was torn between stubbornly saying put or going over to sit on the bench with Cas. He didn't know which one would be a better idea, especially with Sammy so nearby. Although he hadn't felt nervous in the motel room he was beginning to get anxious about the situation now. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about being into Cas––I mean, not with Sam anyway. It was that he didn't know what it was exactly that Cas had in mind. There was a distinct possibility that the two of them could want very different things and that scared Dean. There was a chance that this could ruin what he and Cas had going already and Dean didn't want to lose his best friend. That was too high a price to pay for a few heated moments of bad impulse control.

"The bus is arriving." Cas announced, startling Dean back to reality. Sam looked up and stowed his phone in his pocket.

"Okay, so like I said we don't know exactly what we're looking for. It'll be small and inconspicuous." he passed the two other men each a pair of gloves. "Don't touch it." he warned. Dean rolled his eyes dramatically.

"We know how this works, Sam. Let's just go." the hunter snapped. He clambered onto the bus, Cas right behind him. Like right behind him. Dean's mouth suddenly felt a little too dry. He gulped. Cas didn't seem to notice.

They presented their tickets to the bus driver who waved them through. The only other people on the bus were a nurse coming from the hospital and a couple of teenagers who smelled vaguely like weed. Dean chuckled to himself as he slid into one of the seats in the middle of the bus. Cas sidled into the back and Sam took the front.

Sam's brilliant insight from earlier had seemed glaringly obvious to Dean once his brother had explained it. They had been working on the assumption that the buildings themselves were the basis of whatever was happening. But when Sam had gone to visit Halley Wilson she had mentioned meeting her sister Rebecca at the bus stop. Later, when he got back to the hotel room, Sam had looked up the bus routes for the area and had been pleased to find that there was one bus line that linked all three buildings. Each of the three buildings also had their own bus stop––it was mandatory for both the hospital and the nursing home, and the grocery store was close enough to the center of town that it was just the most convenient place to put it. So Sam had hit the books and discovered a curse that one could put on an object that had the same effect as the deaths they'd already seen.

Dean glanced around surreptitiously and slid a gloved hand under the cushion of the seat next to him. Nothing. He peered at the ground beneath his feet but all that was down there was dirt and a ripped paper napkin. Sam had been very clear––the object had to be something valuable. A dirty scrap of paper wasn't going to cut it.

Doing the best he could not to be too conspicuous, Dean got up and moved to the row of seats behind him. The nurse gave him a judgmental look but Dean just smiled at her sarcastically and she tutted and went back to looking out the window. The kids didn't even notice––they were busy staring out the window at the passing cars in fascination.

Dean went back to examining the seat next to him but something on the floor caught his eye. A shiny silver coin glittered invitingly. The hunter reached down with his gloved hand to pick it up but it was stuck. He tried kicking it, but it didn't move.

"Sammy!" he called. His little brother turned from what he was doing and got up to join Dean in the middle of the bus. The nurse squinted at them curiously but Dean ignored her this time.

"What did you find?" his brother asked, stooping low to get a better view. Cas slid into the row of seats behind them and peered over Dean's shoulder at the coin. Dean prodded at the coin again.

"It's stuck," he said in frustration. Sam leaned down even further and tried to pry it off the floor to no avail.

"Well this is definitely what we're looking for," he grunted, trying to get his gloved thumb underneath the coin. It wouldn't budge.

"Perhaps if we use my angel blade it will come unstuck," suggested Cas, passing the angel blade to Dean. Their fingers brushed slightly as he took it from the ex-angel's hand and they both blushed. Thankfully Sam was too busy trying to get his hair out of his face to notice. Dean leaned down and dug the point of the blade under the coin. He wiggled it back and forth a couple times and the coin popped free with clatter. Sam scooped it up and plopped it into a ziplock bag. He sealed it and waved it triumphantly at his brother and Cas. Dean passed the angel blade back over his shoulder without looking behind him. Cas took it without a word and slid it back into the inside pocket of his trench-coat.

They got off at the next stop and took a cab back to their motel. Once they were back inside Dean and Cas's room Sam popped his laptop open and settled at the coffee table. Cas shot Dean a frustrated look over Sam's head which made the hunter's ears turn pink. He turned abruptly and grabbed three beers out of the mini fridge for something to do. He passed them out to his brother and the angel and then settled on the couch next to Sam.

"So now we just have to figure out who cursed it," he said, trying to look over Sam's shoulder. His brother shrugged him off.

"What do you think I'm doing, Dean?" he asked, irritation apparent in his tone. Dean smirked at Sam's reaction. Despite the seriousness of the situation pissing Sam off was always funny.

"It is possible that Mr. Cabot had something to do with this." Cas rumbled from the chair he had settled cautiously onto.

"What makes you think that?" Sam asked, looking up curiously from the computer screen. Cas fixed him with his piercing stare. For a second Dean wished that that gaze was trained on him but he shook his head and snapped out of it.

"Well," Cas began, "He did seem rather uncomfortable while we were interviewing him. And I don't think it was just because he is bald," he added, as if that was a point that needed clarification. Sam passed a hand over his eyes.

"Okay, Cas." he said, "But that's not a lot to go on."

"I think we should check it out," Dean said a little too quickly. Sam raised an eyebrow but Cas gave him a small smile which made it all worth it. Sam gave in with a drawn out sigh and snapped his laptop shut in resignation.

"Fine. But it's too late to go tonight." He said, running his fingers through his hair. Dean's stomach flipped as Sam stood. "I'm going to bed." his little brother announced, scooping up the laptop and his jacket.

"Okay." Dean said. His voice came out embarrassingly strained. Sam looked at him strangely. Dean got up and marched over to the door, pulling it open. Sam apparently decided to let it go and left without a word. The hunter shut the door behind him and bolted it.

When Dean turned around Cas was standing right behind him. Dean gulped and instinctively drew back when confronted with those blue eyes. Cas didn't move. He was waiting for Dean to make a decision.

Dean's mind was racing. He didn't know whether to ask Cas what he wanted out of this or just give in to his impulse to lean forward and kiss the man in front of him. But words had never been Dean's thing, so he took a deep breath and raised a palm and placed it against Cas's cheek. The angel closed is eyes at the contact. Dean leaned forward and Cas met his lips eagerly. 

His mouth was soft and needy against Dean's own and the hunter found himself melting back against the door as Cas pressed him forwards. He tangled his fingers in the other man's perpetually messy hair and tugged gently. Cas sighed against his lips and slid his arms around Dean's waist.

They stayed like that for a long time, pressed up against the motel room door, breathing softly into long deep kisses. Dean felt giddy, like he was a teenager again. He was fumbling blindly into new territory but because it was Cas he felt safe. It wasn't the act of kissing someone that had Dean lightheaded––he was basically a pro at that. It was the emotion Cas was putting into the kiss. It didn't feel like a quick fix or lust or anything Dean was used to. It was gentle and thorough and felt like it had been a long time coming. It was planned, anticipated, perfected. It was Cas, and he was radiating the warmth and affection and awe that Dean always saw stirring in the back of his eyes when the two of them looked at each other. Knowing it was there was one thing but feeling it like this––that was entirely different. It had Dean compliant and weak at the knees. He was ready to give up control. He couldn't remember the last time he had trusted someone that completely.

The kiss started to turn more heated. Cas pressed Dean harder against the door and the hunter couldn't help but roll his hips a little, feeling his jeans tighten considerably. Cas gasped and pulled back, shock and desire flooding his wide eyes. Dean grinned at him and pushed him back towards the bed. The angel went without complaint, never taking his eyes from the hunter's. Dean guided them backwards until Cas's knees were lined up with the edge of the bed. He searched Cas's eyes for permission. When he found nothing but desire and something bordering on adoration there he pushed the other man down and climbed on top of him, running his fingers gently over Cas's chest.

The angel gazed up at him and very slowly placed his hands on either side of Dean's waist. Dean leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Cas's again. The other man whined and opened his mouth obediently when Dean's tongue ran along his lower lip.

They sank down onto the mattress, Dean threading his fingers back into Cas's hair. He rolled his hips again and Cas squirmed underneath him, pressing as much of his body as he could against the hunter's. Dean nipped at his bottom lip, coaxing little noises of pleasure from the angel's throat as he rocked their bodies back and forth.

Cas's fingers found the hem of his t-shirt and tugged insistently at it. Dean pulled away reluctantly and sat up. The other man watched him as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it. Then the angel sat up too, wrapping an arm around Dean and pressing his palm flat against the hunter's back. His other hand came up and traced the constellations of freckles that criss-crossed Dean's chest. He leaned forward and experimentally planted a soft kiss on Dean's collarbone. Dean sighed. He literally sighed. He only had a second to be embarrassed, though, because Cas had taken his sigh as encouragement and suddenly the angel's tongue was on his throat, mouth moving hungrily up towards Dean's jawline. The angel nipped at his skin leaving a trail of marks up the hunter's neck. Usually Dean would've pushed off anyone trying to give him a hickey (he just didn't need Sam teasing him about that shit) but Cas was obviously enjoying it so much that Dean just let his head fall back, exposing more of his skin to the angel. Cas stretched up and worried Dean's earlobe between his teeth, causing the hunter to gasp roughly and pull Cas's hair. The angel smirked and before Dean knew it Cas had flipped them both over so Dean was flat on his back with his angel leaning over him.

Dean only had a second to look up in shock before Cas was kissing him within an inch of his life. Cas pressed his tongue into Dean's mouth and buried one hand in Dean's hair, the other trailing down across his chest until he found one of the hunter's nipples. He swirled it between his fingers and gave it a hard tug, making Dean arch his back and groan in pleasure. There were suddenly way too many layers of clothes between them. Dean tugged at Cas's shirt but the angel ignored him and slid his teeth along the hunter's bottom lip, humming in pleasure at the feeling of Dean moving underneath him.

Dean's fingers found the buttons of Cas's shirt and started fumbling to undo them. He briefly registered that it was the maroon shirt he had given the ex-angel and smiled into the kiss. But Cas had noticed Dean's frantic attempts to get his shirt off and within seconds he had grabbed both of Dean's wrists and pinned them over his head. The hunter struggled half-heartedly but Cas growled into his mouth and dug his fingernails roughly into Dean's back.

Dean gave up. Cas clearly wanted to learn the intricacies of Dean's body before he let Dean touch him and wasn't going to take no for an answer. So the hunter relaxed and focused on the sensation of his angel's fingers running up and down his torso and the heavy slide of tongues.

Once Cas had explored every part of Dean's chest with his fingers he released the hunter's wrists. Dean threaded his own fingers into Cas's hair but didn't try to unbutton his shirt again. The ex-angel would do that when he was ready. Instead Cas kissed down Dean's jawline, moving his mouth along the hunter's neck and down onto his chest. The angel's lips found the same nipple he had teased earlier and Dean moaned when Cas's tongue flicked over it gently. He rocked his hips against Cas's body, seeking some sort of friction, and the bulge in his pants came in contact with the bulge in Cas's. Cas shuddered and whined against Dean's chest, clearly surprised by the sensation.

"Cas," Dean started, and, embarrassingly, his voice cracked. "Quit teasing me, man. It's not fair." He pressed his face into the hair on top of the angel's head. He smelled good, like fresh rain on pavement and the slightest hint of vanilla. Cas exhaled in answer and sat up a little, giving Dean's fingers full access to the buttons of his shirt. Dean didn't waste any time unbuttoning the shirt and sliding it gently off the angel's shoulders. Cas shuddered at his touch and full-on gasped when Dean slid his teeth over one of the other man's nipples.

Dean scooted back so he was leaning against the headboard and pulled Cas back onto his lap, taking a second to look into his angel's eyes. Cas looked needy and wrecked, pupils so dilated that they almost completely covered the rings of shocking blue. Dean leaned his head back against the wall and grinned up lazily at the angel.

"You look good like this," he purred, running his fingers gently up and down Cas's back. Cas huffed out a breath, flushed cheeks dimpling in a smile. He leaned forward to kiss Dean but in the process the bulge in his pants slid against Dean's leg and he gasped again at the sensation.

"Dean," he whispered, eyes pleading and full of desire. Without breaking eye contact the hunter reached down and undid the buckle of Cas's belt. He felt a flutter of fear as he unbuttoned Cas's slacks and slid them off his legs but it was quickly replaced with excitement when the angel groaned in relief at not being constricted anymore. He tried to climb back onto Dean's lap but the hunter shook his head, unbuttoning his own pants and sliding them off. He dumped his jeans in an unceremonious heap on the floor and sighed at the feeling of the cool air against his arousal.

Cas was looking at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. Dean could honestly say that he didn't know what to do either. He froze up for a second, the gravity of the situation flooding over him. Cas must've seen it on his face because he moved forward and cupped Dean's face in both his hands, tilting his head in concern at the hunter.

"What's wrong?" he asked, ghosting his thumb lightly over the hunter's bottom lip. Dean blushed.

"Uh, nothing," he said. Cas raised an eyebrow. "It's just that I've never done this before," he admitted, looking away from the angel. Cas narrowed his eyes.

"Dean, you've slept with people before." he said in confusion.

"Yeah I know, Cas, but never with, y'know...a guy." he finished lamely. Cas raised his eyebrows.

"The problem is that I inhabit a male vessel?" he asked, his tone cautious. Dean shook his head.

"Dude it's not that I'm not attracted to you. It's that I literally don't know where to go from here. I mean, I have some idea, but...I don't know what will be best for you." he said, looking Cas in the eyes. The worry and hurt melted off the ex-angel's face and was replaced with a look of determination. The hunter eyed him warily.

"Dean." rumbled Cas.

"Uh...yeah?" Dean asked, unsure of what was coming next.

"What is the point of sex?"

The question took Dean entirely by surprise. He blinked silently for a couple seconds, trying to come up with an answer. Eventually he spoke.

"I guess it's just to feel good," he said hesitantly. "To connect." Cas raised his eyebrows.

"So the only way to do it wrong would be to do things that don't feel good or bring us closer, correct?" he asked, eyes boring into Dean's.

"I guess so, yeah." the hunter admitted.

"Then let's try different things and see what feels good," Cas suggested, some shyness creeping back into his tone. Dean exhaled a little laugh.

"Okay," he said, reaching his arms out for Cas. The angel went right to him, his face the picture of contentment. Dean pulled him back into his lap and began to kiss him again, gently. It didn't last long, though. The skin on skin contact was enough to make Dean's blood sing in his veins and he felt the steady heat rushing downwards again. He rocked his hips back and forth against the angel's, burying his face in Cas's neck and humming with pleasure at the breathless, needy little sounds Cas was making with every roll of their bodies.

Dean couldn't deny it––this felt really good. Not just the physical sensations––of course those felt good. But the thing that felt best to Dean was the complete trust and adoration with which his angel looked at him. The fact that it was Cas who wanted him badly enough that he was slowly losing control of his body. The certainty that Cas had that no matter what they did he would enjoy it––because he was with Dean.

The hunter took a deep breath. He slid his hand down from the small of Cas's back and, as slowly as possibly, slipped his fingers under the waistline of the ex-angel's underwear. The instant Cas felt Dean's hand on him he threw his head back and moaned. It wasn't a sound that Dean had ever imagined the angel making but now that he had heard it his only goal was to hear it again. He held Cas close to him as his hand moved back and forth, reveling in the little whimpering sounds coming from the ex-angel's throat. He went as slowly as possible, wanting Cas to experience every moment of pleasure, but the angel had other ideas. He thrust forward into Dean's hand, crying out at the intensified contact.

Once he had regained some measure of control over himself Cas buried his face in Dean's neck and copied the hunter, sliding his hand into Dean's boxers and tentatively moving his hand on Dean the same way Dean was doing to him.

It didn't take long after that.

Dean held Cas close to his body as the other man came, stammering in Enochian and pressing sloppy kisses all over the hunter's neck and face. A few quick strokes later and Dean was taken over by his own orgasm, the rush of endorphins blurring out the room. He thought he might've called out Cas's name.

In the still aftermath the two men clung to each other, bodies heaving from exertion and breathlessness. Eventually Cas looked up and Dean pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He couldn't help it; Dean grinned ridiculously––his angel looked completely blissed out, eyes closed and a quiet smile on his lips. He reached up and stroked Cas's hair back from his forehead. The ex-angel threw his arms around Dean's shoulders and burried his face in the hunter's neck. Dean held him like that for a few minutes, blissfully running his fingers up and down Cas's back as the other man nuzzled closer. Dean could feel the fluttering of Cas's eyelashes against the side of his neck.

But eventually it Dean felt the need to get up and clean himself off. He nudged Cas

(who was drifting off) and said,

"Hey, Cas...we need to get up and get changed, okay? Before we go to sleep?"

Cas just nodded and stood shakily, pulling Dean by the hand.

The ex-angel opted for the baby-wipes method while Dean stepped into the shower quickly. When he emerged, toweling his hair off and shaking drops of water from his body, Cas was nowhere to be seen. Dean pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded into the other room. The angel was curled up on top of his covers wearing one of Dean's t-shirts and a fresh pair of boxers. Dean grinned to himself. Cas was still smiling.

Dean's bed was a disaster of mussed up sheets and pillows thrown haphazardly across the room. He looked it up and down thinking he should probably clean it up, but when he glanced at Cas again he knew exactly where he wanted to be.

The hunter climbed onto Cas's bed and shook the other man's shoulder gently. Cas blinked sleepily at him.

"You gotta get up for a second, man. We need to get under the covers." he insisted, brushing Cas's hair back from his forehead. The ex-angel complied, letting Dean pull him up and tug the covers back. Cas sank back down into the bed and Dean climbed in after him, sliding his arm underneath the other man gently so that Cas's head was resting right over his heart.

"You're staying with me?" Cas asked, looking up at Dean with big blue eyes. He looked genuinely surprised. Dean made his duh face and rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am, angel." he said, closing his eyes. Cas shifted his weight a little.

"Dean," he said, "I am no longer an angel." He sounded sad. Dean opened his eyes.

"Yes you are," he whispered, tracing the outline of Cas's lips with his fingertips, "at least to me." Cas looked at him for a long time with an unfathomable expression. Then suddenly his face broke into a beautiful smile that made Dean feel warm from head to toe. And that was the end of the discussion.

Cas settled back against Dean and the two of them drifted off together. The last coherent thought that Dean had was _this is how things are supposed to be_ before he drifted off into a sweet and dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV. Everything becomes clear.

Sam woke up with a headache and a sore throat.

The sunlight was filtering in gently through the cheap curtains and he could even hear the faint sounds of excited birds, but the beauty of the day did nothing to stop the pounding in his head. He groaned and rolled over. Maybe a shower would help. The hunter dragged himself out of bed and shuffled towards the bathroom, yawning widely. It was a fact that the water pressure here sucked, and he could still feel remnants of yesterday’s shampoo in his hair. _The curse of having luscious locks_ he thought wryly, pulling his t-shirt off over his head. Sam turned on the water anyway and leaned against the sink as the bathroom steamed up.

Half an hour (and a lot of rinsing) later, he shoved his motel room key into his jacket pocket, scooped up his laptop and backpack and marched down the walkway to bang on his brother’s door.

From inside there was a muffled _“DAMMIT”_ and a loud thump as Dean presumably launched himself out of bed. Sam hid a smile as Dean yanked open the door and glared at him, hair sticking up in every imaginable direction.

“Yes?” his older brother snapped.

“Dean it’s 8:30. Let me in.” Sam insisted, shouldering his way in the door. Dean huffed as Sam pushed past him and was met with a sight he wasn’t prepared for.

The motel room was a disaster.

Dean’s bed looked like it had been turned upside down, ripped apart by hellhounds, and then thrown across a football field for good measure. Sam knew enough about his brother’s nightmares to not say anything––he felt a flicker of sympathy for Cas who must’ve had to deal with the whole thing––and he glanced over to where the angel was snoring gently in his bed.

And there was another thing he wasn’t expecting––Cas, asleep, curled up in a warm cocoon of blankets. He looked happier than Sam had ever seen him. In fact, Sam didn’t think he’d actually ever seen Cas sleep before––or when he had it was always when they were on the road and it was fitful and restless. But the ex-angel looked completely and totally at peace. Sam shook his head. Just his luck that he would be stuck with the two weirdest people this side of purgatory.

Dean had disappeared into the bathroom, but now he popped out, running a palmful of gel into his hair and spiking it up. Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean pulled a bitchface. Just their usual morning exchange.

The taller man plopped his backpack and laptop down onto the table, pulling out a chair with his foot.

“You wanna wake him up?” he asked, gesturing to the snoring Cas. Dean looked thoughtfully over his shoulder.

“Not really.” he said. Sam wondered if maybe the two of them were fighting again.

An hour later they had formulated a plan. Eventually Dean had acquiesced to waking Cas up. And then he had bolted. He had been gone for almost the whole hour while Sam and Cas sat at the small table and tried to figure out what to do next. When Dean did return he was loaded down with coffee and donuts and even a fruit salad for Sam. It was an unusually thoughtful gesture, and Sam wondered if Dean had been looking for an excuse to stay out of the room for as long as possible. But his brother stubbornly ignored his questioning looks so Sam simply gave up.

Eventually they piled into the Impala and went on their awkward way. There wasn’t a doubt in Sam’s mind at this point that something was going on with Dean and Cas. Each of them would look at the other for a a moment then turn away, missing each other’s glances by a fraction of a second. Their movements around each other were awkward and formal and they barely exchanged five words the whole time the three of them were planning. Cas automatically slid into the backseat when they got in the car, leaving Sam sitting in the front seat and watching as Dean quickly jammed a random cassette in and turned the volume way up.

They pulled up in back of the nursing home and Dean maneuvered the Impala into some bushes by the side of the road. As quietly as possible the three of them got out of the car and retrieved their guns from the trunk. Sam slipped his into the waistband of his jeans and pursed his lips when Dean passed Cas a handgun without even looking at him. He was going to have to get Cas alone and ask him what the hell was going on.

They split up––Dean went one way and Sam and Cas went the other, sneaking around the periphery of the building. The hunter and the ex-angel spotted their target in just under a minute. Sam reached in his pocket to touch the ziplock bag carrying the coin and was relieved to find that it was still there. He pushed his hair behind his ears, took a step back and got ready to kick the back door in.

“Wait!” Cas hissed, looking alarmed. He grabbed the knob and turned it. The door opened without a creak.

“Oh.” said Sam. “That works too.”

The two of them stepped silently into the dark hallway, Sam closing the door as gently as possible behind him. Cas waved him forward. It was a weird enough time of day that no one was really around––most of the old people were still asleep and the nurses were presumably taking care of them. So Cas and Sam reached the office of Mr. Cabot unimpeded.

Sam tried the handle––it gave way. So he opened the door as quietly as possible and peered into the room to make sure the coast was clear.

It turned out he had been unnecessarily worried, because the first thing he saw upon entering the room was Dean. With a gun. That was trained on a shaking Mr. Cabot. Cas followed him into the room and Sam quickly shut the door and locked it as quietly as possible. He looked around for cameras. There were none.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding…” Mr. Cabot stuttered, sweat beading on his bald head. He looked back and forth from Sam to Dean and when he found no sympathy there he trained his eyes on Cas. The ex-angel just looked at him blankly.

“It seems pretty clear to me,” said Dean, gesturing at the older man with the gun. Mr. Cabot winced. Sam leaned forward.

“Mr. Cabot, have you seen this before?” he asked, carefully placing the ziplock containing the coin on the desk in front of the director. The man shook his head. Sam raised an eyebrow. Mr. Cabot’s lip quivered. Then––

“Yes.” he said, in the smallest voice possible. Dean made a noise of triumph.

“I’ve seen it! But I promise I didn’t mean to kill anyone!” the man squeaked, somewhat hysterically.

“Oh, you just meant to maim them?” Dean asked, voice dripping this sarcasm. “Oh, well, Sammy that changes everything, doesn’t it?”

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother before turning back to the shaking director who was blinking furiously.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” he whimpered, shaking his head so rigorously that Sam was afraid it might fall off. “I promise!”

“Mr. Cabot, where did you get this?” Cas rumbled from behind Sam. The director looked at him with panicked eyes.

“I bought it on Ebay!” he whispered, lower lip wobbling. “The description said it was a good luck charm. I don’t believe in that stuff but my niece likes it so I got it for her birthday. But then it fell out of its packaging on the bus and I couldn’t find it anywhere. So I just let it go.”

The man looked like he was going to pee himself. Dean sighed and took the gun off him. The director whimpered in relief and slumped forwards into his desk. Sam leaned forward again.

“Can you show us the account you bought this from?” he asked, trying to sound soothing. Mr. Cabot shook his head dejectedly.

“When I began to suspect that my coin had something to do with the deaths I went back on the website looking for the person who had sold it to me. But they had taken their account down. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth originally,” he blurted. “I was afraid I would go to jail. Or that I was crazy. Either one.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean said, putting his gun away. “We’ve heard that before. Everyone is always afraid they’re nuts.”

“Always?” squeaked Mr. Cabot, “You mean stuff like this has happened before?”

“It’s usually much worse,” supplied Cas. “We’ve stopped the apocalypse several times.”

“Not helping, Cas.” Sam muttered as the man turned white and looked like he was going to faint.

“Just do me a favor and don’t buy any more magic objects online, okay?” Dean asked, plucking the plastic bag off the desk and pocketing it. Mr. Cabot nodded.

“What are you going to do with the coin?” he asked apprehensively.

“We’ve got a safe place to put it.” Sam said soothingly. “Take care.” He turned and marched out the door.

Once the three of them were back in the Impala and on the road he sighed, reached out, and turned off the music.

“Hey!” Dean snarled, glaring at him. But Sam kept his hand over the button.

“Okay, guys.” he said, glancing back and forth between Cas and Dean. “What’s going on with you two?”

The reaction he got was about what he had been expecting. Cas blinked rapidly in panic and Dean spluttered incoherently. He tried to push Sam’s hand off the volume button and when that failed he pulled Baby over to the side of the road. There was nothing around them but trees.

“Sam, can I speak to you for a minute?” Dean hissed, venom in his voice. Sam sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt. He suddenly regretted his choice of asking while they were in the car. He had thought it would be a good place since neither of them could escape, but that cornered feeling had just seemed to make things worse. He popped open the door as Cas fidgeted nervously in the backseat.

Dean stalked off towards the trees, far enough away from the car so that Cas couldn’t hear. Sam followed more slowly. Even Dean’s back looked angry.

“Yes?” he asked when he finally approached the fuming hunter. Dean rounded on him.

“It’s none of your business what Cas and I do!” he hissed, trying to get all up in Sam’s face but failing because of the height difference. Sam pursed his lips.

“It becomes my business when I can barely stand to be in the same room as you guys.” he said, irritation clear in his voice. Dean turned red and looked like he was about to explode.

“I never expected this from you!” he snarled, barely keeping his voice under control. “Dad, maybe, but you? I thought you were supposed to be all open-minded and stuff! Mr. College education!” Sam just blinked at him in confusion. Then––

“Dean, are we talking about the same thing?” he asked, looking sideways at his brother.

“If we’re talking about you being a huge asshole because Cas and I slept together, then yes!” Dean yelled, finally losing his cool. Sam blinked. And blinked again. And suddenly his features split into an enormous, shit-eating grin.

“Dude, you and Cas?” he asked, trying to keep the delight out of his voice. “Finally! I knew it! Do you know how long I’ve had to put up with all the awkward eye-sex? The weird possessiveness and “profound bond” and all that? This is great!” he clapped a stunned Dean on the shoulder.

“Uh…what?” his brother asked.

“What do you mean, what?” asked Sam, trying to fight his face back into a more serious expression. It was Dean’s turn to look confused.

“I thought you knew.” he said, pushing his eyebrows together. Sam shook his head.

“Dude how could I possibly know?” he asked. Dean thought for a second. Then shook his head.

“I don’t know, man. I guess I was just being paranoid. I was kinda scared you might react badly. I’m actually done with this conversation now.” he announced, straightening his shoulders and starting to march back towards the Impala.

“Wait!” Sam called after him. Dean audibly groaned. Sam ran to catch up with his brother, who stopped and glared. “If you and Cas…y’know. Which, by the way, I DON'T want to think about. But if you did…why aren’t you guys talking?” he asked, looking back and forth between Dean and the car. Dean sighed.

“Because I literally have no idea what to say.” he said after a moment, running his tongue across his teeth in defeat. Sam frowned in sympathy.

“Well what do you usually say?” he asked.

“Dude, personal question. Also Cas isn’t a random one night stand, Sam. He’s my best friend. Hell, he’s our _family_. I might’ve just ruined everything.”

Dean wasn’t letting it show, but Sam knew his brother better than anyone else. Stirring deep behind Dean’s eyes was the same fear of rejection that he always carried with him. The same fear and insecurity that lead him to mess around with any woman he met and never stay in one place too long. The same feelings behind the angst and self-hate that he’d been living with his whole life. And in that moment Sam decided he was sick of it.

With all the drama he could muster, Sam flopped backwards onto the ground, collapsing in a heap of leaves.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean barked, rushing forward to check if he was alright. Sam grinned up at him.

“I am not moving from this spot until you get into that car, talk to Cas, and figure this out.” he said stubbornly.

“Sam, come on. Stop acting like a child.” Dean said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Sam smiled again.

“I will when you do.” he said, pointing towards the Impala. Dean sat back on his heels and stared at his little brother. And stared. And stared. And then he did the last thing that Sam expected. He got up, turned around and walked towards the car. With one last look at his little brother when he got there, Dean turned around, opened the door, and slid into the back seat.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is resolved

Dean pulled the car door shut with a slam, refusing to look at Cas in the seat beside him. There was a moment of incredibly awkward silence before Cas cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, the buckle of his trench coat clutched tight in one fidgeting hand.

Dean stared at the back of the driver’s seat so intensely he thought it might spontaneously combust from the force of his discomfort alone. He waited. It didn’t blow up. Which meant that he had no way of getting out of the conversation. He opened his mouth to speak but before he had a chance to get a word out Cas cut him off.

“Dean,” he rumbled, “it’s okay. I know how you feel about casual sex. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I assure you that I understand.”

The hunter turned and stared at him in shock. Cas was looking down into his lap where his fingers plucked at the buckle of his coat. He looked entirely miserable, but Dean could tell that he was trying hard to maintain his usual poker face. Something in the hunter’s stomach twisted sickeningly. Without making a conscious decision to do so, Dean reached out and brushed Cas’s chin lightly with his fingertips.

“I’m such a douchebag,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Cas trained his big blue eyes on Dean’s. They were full of surprise and confusion. Dean sighed, exasperated.

“Casual sex, Cas? Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you think it was?”

“Wasn’t it?” the angel asked, tilting his head slightly. But his fingers reached up to hold Dean’s hand to his face.

“Of course not, dumbass.” Dean replied. His heart was throwing itself wildly against his ribcage but he ignored it. “Cas, I’m not good with words.” he tried to explain, pulling his hand back and running his fingers through his hair nervously.

“What do words have to do with sex?” Cas asked, clearly not following. Dean sighed and turned to look out the window, face burning red. He’d forgotten how frustrating it could be to have to spell everything out for Cas. _Suck it up, Dean._ He thought. _Bite the bullet and do it._

“That wasn’t casual sex, man.” he said, clenching his eyes shut. “Not at all. I mean I couldn’t ever have predicted once in 1000 years that I’d be involved with a guy, let alone sleep with one. But I’m not very good with words. I couldn’t tell you how I feel, so I had to show you. That’s what that was. Not casual.” he muttered, voice trailing off awkwardly. Silence filled the Impala until it felt to close and tight to breathe. He scrunched his face up, closing his eyes tighter. Then––

“How you feel.” Cas repeated, barely louder than a whisper.

“Help…” Dean muttered to no one in particular, resting his burning forehead against the window. It felt cold against his heated skin. He wished desperately that he could disappear. The hunter briefly considered just getting out of the car and walking back into town. But then he felt a tug at his sleeve and all of a sudden his shaking hand was captured by Cas’s smaller, warm one.

Dean opened his eyes and turned to look at the man in the seat next to him. Cas’s expression was timid and genuine–– _is this okay?_ And Dean couldn’t help it. He smiled.

It was a shy, small, nervous smile, but a smile nonetheless. And it was what the angel had been looking for. Cas’s eyebrows unscrunched and his eyes filled with tentative relief and the beginnings of hope.

“Uh…” Dean started, voice breaking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I just wasn’t sure what you wanted out of this, y’know?” he asked, studying Cas’s reaction carefully.

“Ah. That’s why you were reluctant to talk to me.” Cas guessed, understanding flooding his face. “You didn’t know if I wanted to be with you.” Dean felt the heat rise in his cheeks again and he looked up through his eyelashes at the ceiling to collect himself. Cas tugged on his hand.

“Dean. Why wouldn’t I want this? How could I possibly want anything else?” he asked earnestly.

“I…um…” Dean stuttered, caught up in Cas’s expression. The ex-angel suddenly grinned.

“I see what you mean about not being good with words.” he quipped, raising an eyebrow. Dean blinked at him in surprise for a second. Then he felt a laugh bubbling up inside him, releasing the built up tension and the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“You––” he started, huffing a laugh, but Cas didn’t give him a chance to finish. He leaned forward over what was suddenly way too much space and fitted his mouth to Dean’s.

It was slow and intense and exploratory, Cas’s heart pounding in time with the kiss, Dean’s fingers snaking up to weave through his angel’s unruly hair and tug softly. Cas slid his tongue gently along the hunter’s lower lip, asking permission. He didn’t need to ask. He already had it. Dean opened his mouth and pulled him closer, breathing in the smell of his car and Cas’s hair and the motel laundry detergent. The moment stretched out in one glittering, unbroken thread. It felt finite and immediate and entirely _human_ but time seemed to slow almost to a stop as if to say _take as long as you want. You have forever._

And then, of course, Sam rapped loudly on the window and cleared his throat with much more drama than was really necessary. Dean broke off the kiss, rolling his eyes, but Cas just tucked his head into Dean’s shoulder and sighed happily. Doing his best not to dislodge the angel, Dean turned to glare at his giant of a little brother who wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Dean raised an irritated eyebrow. Sam smirked.

“I got bored. Keys?” he held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Dean stared at him for a solid 10 seconds. Then, resignedly, he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the keys to the Impala. He gently pushed Cas off and popped the door open, dropping the keys into Sam’s waiting hand.

“Just this once,” he said, narrowing his eyes at his brother, who winked.

The drive back to the motel was peaceful and amber-colored. Cas laid with his head in Dean’s lap, studying the hunter as the light played across his face and made his eyes shine brighter green than seemed possible. Dean stared out the window, lightly carding his fingers through Cas’s hair. And Sam carefully chose the most romantic and sappy tape he could find and turned the volume on the car’s stereo all the way up. Dean couldn’t find it in him to mind.

When they reached the motel Sam dropped them off, claiming that he needed to go to a bar and drink as much as possible to forget the scarring image of Cas and Dean kissing. He barely bit back a smile as he pulled out of the parking lot, looking at his brother and the ex-angel in the rearview mirror. A feeling of contented triumph rose in his chest. He replayed the tape.

The door to Dean and Cas’s motel room was locked, and Dean shuffled impatiently through his pockets for the key as Cas looked on, quietly laughing at him. Eventually he found it, and after several fumbled attempts at opening the door the two of them pushed through into the cramped room. Dean turned and locked the door behind them, feeling Cas’s arms slide around his waist from behind. He chuckled.

“Be patient.” he teased, twisting in Cas’s arms and looking down into the other man’s face with a grin. Cas regarded him impassively with practiced vacancy of expression. Dean decided to kiss the stoic look off his face.

This time was different than before. They made their way to the bed slowly, shedding items of clothing along the way. Cas took the lead, pushing Dean backwards against the pillows and kissing him until he was gasping for breath, fingers tracing up and down the hunter’s arms and torso. Eventually he replaced his fingers with his mouth, pausing to place a gentle kiss on every scar on the hunter’s body. His mouth traced patterns across Dean’s stomach, down lower until he was nipping gently at the other man’s hipbones, and finally lower still. When Dean came, fingers twisting in Cas’s hair and back arched against the bed, he swore he heard the rush of wings and felt the gentle brush of feathers.

Later, after Dean had returned the favor, easing Cas through his own climax, the two of them lay in Cas’s bed, curled against each other. Dean marveled at the way their bodies fit together. It felt so natural to hold Cas and brush his hair back from his forehead as the other man’s eyes fluttered in sleepy contentment. Dean ran his fingers absentmindedly up and down Cas’s back, staring up at the cracked motel ceiling. He felt a perfect kind of happiness that he had forgotten he was capable of, had forgotten even existed. Cas’s breathing was slow and even against his neck, his arm flung possessively across the hunter’s stomach. He smelled like home and comfort––that heady mix of thunderstorms and vanilla.

Dean leaned over to flick out the lamp, jostling Cas slightly with the movement. The ex-angel groaned sleepily and snuggled closer, hiding his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean chuckled. He could feel his own eyes closing, his own body sinking into the comfort and safety of their bed. There was only one thing left to do.

“Cas?” Dean whispered groggily.

“Mmm?” came the response.

“Love you.” he said, pressing his face into the angel’s hair. Dean felt Cas’s eyelashes against his neck as his eyes fluttered open. There was a moment of peaceful, alert silence. Then––

“Likewise.” Cas whispered, pressing a kiss to Dean’s jawline, lips brushing gently over the stubble there.  
They stayed like that, curled around each other in blissful retreat from the world, not even waking when Sam pulled into the parking lot and stumbled to bed at 4:00 AM. When the sun rose, it filtered through the cheap motel curtains and fell on their faces, warming them gently. Cas blinked open his eyes and looked up at his hunter. Dean was snoring lightly, mouth partially open and all stress and pain gone from his face. Cas traced the outline of Dean’s lips with his fingers, then reached up and gently brushed Dean’s unruly hair back off his forehead. They lay there like that, Dean sleeping and Cas counting his freckles, until the hunter stirred, woke, and smiled. For the first time in recent memory, he had woken up with a deep and unshakeable feeling of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought of this! It's my first fic so any/all feedback is welcome. ~Lily


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